


Moonlit Choices

by Kousa



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, F/M, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, Out of Character, Romance, Werewolves
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-31
Updated: 2021-03-03
Packaged: 2021-03-08 19:28:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 31,027
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27311908
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kousa/pseuds/Kousa
Summary: “What will happen to me?” Draco dared to ask once he felt in control of his emotions.“I don’t know. If we are lucky, you will just receive a few minutes of the torture curse.” Snape leaned back in his chair, the exhaustion from the past few hours making itself evident in his posture.“And if we are not?” Narcissa prodded.The question was left unanswered, but hung between the three Slytherins, each scared to break the heavy silence that had fallen between them.----They weren't. Draco is brought before Voldemort a Failure. His punishment...well it's the worst he can imagine.
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy
Comments: 65
Kudos: 193





	1. Spinner's End

**Author's Note:**

> Hello Everybody and Happy Halloween!  
> A/N: I do not own Harry Potter or any characters/locations related to the franchise. That all belongs to J.K. Rowling. I hope you enjoy the only thing I do own...the plot. Also M rating for language and possible sexually explicit scenes (really just wanted to be safe with the rating).

Draco ran as fast as his long legs could carry him. With each foot he gained, his lungs burned with the need of a fresh breath of air. The grounds were alight with the partial moon, its silvery glow reflected off the Black Lake lighting the path that he needed to take. His salvation was the Forbidden Forest, the one place on the grounds of Hogwarts that Draco actually feared. It was ironic that tonight it was the one place he wanted -  _ needed _ \- to be. 

The soles of his dragonhide shoes hit a patch of grass, wet with freshly fallen dew causing his feet to slip. Landing heavily on his back, Draco tried to breathe but was unable to pull in air. Time seemed to slow, and he felt as if he was suffocating. Finally, Snape came up from behind him, and yanked him roughly to his feet. One smooth pat on the back from the older wizard and Draco was able to pull in several gasping breaths. “Keep moving, Mr. Malfoy.” The older wizard grunted.

Draco Malfoy looked back at his godfather. Severus Snape’s normally smooth black hair was standing at odd angles, and his hooked nose was red on his pale face. There was a shout from somewhere behind the older wizard, back up the hill towards Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Draco took a second and glanced up at the old castle. Even now he could see lights reflecting from within the windows as students and faculty were shaken awake to the horrific news.

Draco’s stomach turned violently when the memory of what he had accomplished tonight was thrown back in his head. The memory of watching his classmates duel Death Eaters. He could still remember one of the Weasley’s on the ground, Fenrir Greyback standing above him like he had won a great prize. The crimson of the man’s blood mixed horribly with the bright red of his hair, and all Draco could do was feel grateful that it wasn’t him unconscious on the ground. At that thought his stomach tightened once again and he dry heaved until sick erupted from his mouth and fell to the grass. 

As Draco brushed the back of his hand over his mouth Snape lowered down until he was at the boy’s ear. “Listen closely Mr. Malfoy, if the Dark Lord even senses an ounce of hesitation it won’t matter what you accomplished today, he will  _ end  _ you and your mother. Do you understand?” Draco forced his head to bob up and down in the sign for yes. 

“Good.” Snape snapped before pulling Draco up by his collar. “You will behave like a faithful servant.” Draco could feel his gaze shift into one full of questions, but at the warning glance from his godfather he nodded feverishly. The shouting began to get louder, and a voice that Draco had come to hate over the past six years called out his godfather’s name, the tone blasting with contempt. Potter. 

Draco barely had time to register that the bifocaled boy wonder was chasing him, as at that moment the small hut at the edge of the forest erupted into a burst of magical fire. He quickly covered his face as the explosion echoed through the night. Draco lowered his hands when the worst of the explosion ended, flinching as his Aunt Bellatrix’s insane laughter filled the cool air. His Aunt’s malicious glee added to the nervous beating of his heart. His palms began to sweat, realization of what his actions had caused slowly seeping into his soul like tar. 

Draco felt himself being pushed towards the flames. Snape’s hand was strong and solid on his upper arm as he led him towards his aunt. “Take him to Spinner's End,” Snape pushed Draco towards Bellatrix as she danced around the flaming hut. Briefly Draco wondered if the Gamekeeper Hagrid was alright, before turning his attention to the crazy haired witch before him.

Bellatrix Lestrange stomped her foot like a pouting child, her black eyes running over her nephew before turning back to Snape frustrated. “He can take himself. He’s of age.” Snape whipped around to face away from them as a curse rebounded off the shield he had hastily cast. Harry Potter was standing at the edge of the hill, catching up to them, shooting spells from far away. Snape stood there, his wand in hand, and waited for the boy-who-lived to catch up. 

“Listen to me closely Bella,” Snape’s voice came out harshly, “The Dark Lord is going to want to question Draco himself, and if anything happens to him because you were too  _ busy _ I will make sure He knows who is at fault. Do I make myself clear, or should I write it down? Now get him to Spinner's End.” Bella hissed out a frustrated breath before grabbing Draco by his robe and yanking him towards the Forbidden Forest, muttering to herself the entire way. 

Once they had cleared the edge of the forest they continued to walk, weaving their way under large branches, until they felt the pulse of the castle wards. Once outside the veil of magic, Bella grabbed Draco roughly on the back of the neck and apparated them without any forewarning. Draco felt his insides being squeezed, every ounce of his body feeling like it had been squished together like he was on the knight bus as it maneuvered between two cars. Finally, he landed ungracefully on his feet and stumbled forth until he landed hard on his palms, the concrete scraping his pale skin. 

Bellatrix made a noise of disgust before hauling him up impatiently. She then walked him to the familiar front steps of his godfather’s house before stomping away. Draco barely noticed her before she disapparated, leaving him alone and shell shocked on the stoop. 

Draco waited. 

It must not have been very long, because he was still in shock when he heard his mother’s cool voice, “Oh, my Draco.” He hadn’t even heard the pop of her apparation, but now felt her cool fingers on his hair. She lifted and pulled on his arm gently until he stood, leading him into the old decrepit building that Snape called home. 

He smelled the musty air when the door creaked open, the gust seeming to fight for escape. It pushed past him giving him a nostalgic feeling. Mold clung to the greying walls, and the dark floor always seemed permanently wet. Each step they took creaked through the old house, making Draco flinch at the noise. Draco had not been here in years, but when he was younger, he used to love to visit his Uncle Severus. Severus used to treat him like a grown up and let him help with potions long before he got his Hogwarts letter. 

The first time he had seen the man impatient was when he had gotten to school, and Harry Potter had appeared in his class. Still, there was something oddly comforting about sitting down in his favorite moth eaten armchair, his mother kneeling hesitantly at his side. 

“Draco, dear are you alright?” The question was soft, floating around the room like bubbles from his childhood bath. His grey eyes flicked up to his mother’s face. Her blond hair was tied up in a stylish bun, and she had red lipstick shining on her thin lips, which were pursed in worry. Her pale blue eyes scanned his face quickly before a cool hand reached up and brushed the fringe from his face, pushing it back so it rested haphazardly on his forehead. He tried to manage a weak smile for her, but the way she released a quick breath told him it was poorly executed. 

“Whatever you have done, it has saved us.” She grabbed his hands forcefully, holding them between her cool ones in an effort to ground him like she had done so many times when he was a child. 

“I failed, mum…mum I-” 

“Shh,” she pulled him down against her shoulder, running her fingers through his hair. He felt every bit the seventeen-year-old child he was when his mother whispered to him that it would be ok. He allowed himself a second to break against her shoulder, knowing that once this was done he wouldn’t be able to break again. 

Too soon after he had begun there was a soft throat clearing from the other side of the room. The two Malfoys turned to look quickly, the younger trying to wipe away any evidence of his mental state. Snape entered the room after giving his guests time to compose themselves. 

“Cissa, I didn’t expect you so soon.” The potions master walked to a small table, pouring two glasses of an amber liquid before bringing one to the witch. He then handed the other to Draco, before summoning a glass of water for himself. Draco found it odd that his Professor would choose water over brandy, but he wasn’t going to question it. Not when the alcohol felt so good burning down his throat. 

“Bella arrived at the manor a short while ago. She said the night was successful.” Snape nodded slowly, his eyes bouncing to the doorway before waving his wand, causing the door to slam shut. He then muttered a spell that Draco had never heard before. A soft buzzing descended on the room, and Snape nodded first to the walls and then gave a quick nod to the witch. “What happened?”

“Dumbledore is dead.” The sharp intake of breath from his mother caused Draco to look up concerned. She was eyeing Draco with something akin to suspicion and worry. 

“Draco-”

“I did it.” Snape cut off Narcissa’s choked reply with his normally stoic voice, “Draco is safe.” Narcissa nodded quickly, clinging to her son’s hand. She stood in one smooth movement, summoning a chair behind her so she could stay close to her son before sitting in it. She crossed her legs gracefully under her dark grey robes. 

“The Dark Lord will take issue with you being the one to execute Professor Dumbledore. Won’t he?” Snape quirked an eyebrow at the witch. He eyed her a second his head moving in a slow nod. 

“He will. But, Draco should survive whatever punishment the Dark Lord sees fit.” Draco shuddered at the thought. He had failed to kill Dumbledore – that much was certain – but he had rather hoped he wouldn’t be punished, because he had succeeded in getting Voldemort’s forces  _ into _ Hogwarts. The most well protected place in all of Great Britain. Clearly he was wrong. He looked up at his godfather, the panic flashing uninhibited in his grey eyes. 

“Practice what I taught you, Mr. Malfoy.” Snape snapped at him. Immediately Draco pulled up a few weakly constructed occlumency walls. He pushed the panic and the fear into the back corners of his mind. Taking a deep breath he met his professors eyes once again. “Better.” 

“What will happen to me?” Draco dared to ask once he felt in control of his emotions. 

“I don’t know. If we are lucky, you will just receive a few minutes of the torture curse.” Snape leaned back in his chair, the exhaustion from the past few hours making itself evident in his posture. 

“And if we are not?” Narcissa prodded. 

The question was left unanswered, but hung between the three Slytherins, each scared to break the heavy silence that had fallen between them. 


	2. Bad Moon Rising

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I do not own Harry Potter or any characters/locations related to the franchise. That all belongs to J.K. Rowling. I hope you enjoy the only thing I do own...the plot. Also M rating for language and possible sexually explicit scenes (really just wanted to be safe with the rating).

Draco paced the hall outside of the large doors leading to the meeting room. It had been nearly a month since the Battle of the Astronomy Tower. Draco had been staying with Severus, as there were Aurors who were convinced that he would be at the Manor. Those Aurors had repeatedly dropped in for a spot of tea at random times during the past few weeks. Right now, Draco Malfoy was a wanted criminal. Implicit in the death of one Albus P. W. B. Dumbledore.

They had prepared for this though. Narcissa and Draco had known that no matter how the night had turned out Draco wouldn't be able to come home. She had sent some of his clothes to Spinner's End, and had told the Aurors nothing but the truth. Her status alone kept her from being brought in and questioned under Veritaserum. Snape's house was under a weird Charm that Draco didn't know that prevented it from being found.

Staying with Snape had been relaxing…well as relaxing as anything could be at this moment. His professor had made him help with potions. Malfoy took notice of the number of sleeping draughts, healing potions, and other salves that Severus was making. It seemed that his professor was preparing for the war ahead.

During his few weeks of blessed silence Draco memorized as many potions as he could. He studied the way his godfather deviated from the recorded recipes in the potion books, and made notes in the margins of an extra copy that Snape had. On a couple of occasions, Draco thought he had seen Snape smirk at his book, but he decided to leave it be.

It wasn't long until the summons came. It didn't come via an owl, or a floo call…that would have been too simple. The summons came through the Dark Mark that had been burned into Draco's skin before his sixth year.

Both he and Snape were monitoring a very finicky section in brewing a calming draught when the summons came. The pain was blinding, Draco fell immediately to his knees, releasing a grunt. His hand immediately clasped his forearm, instinctually trying to remove the object burning him, but what could he do when the burn was coming from his own skin? After several seconds of pain as if a hot brand was searing his flesh the feeling dissipated, leaving behind only a dull throb. Draco noticed that Snape had barely moved other than a grimace.

"He has called you." Snape intoned, adding a slice of crocodile heart to the boiling liquid.

"Did-" Draco gasped out from the ground, "Did you feel that?"

"Yes." Snape drawled tiredly, with a wave of his wand the potion was placed under stasis. "I felt it. It gets easier the longer you've had the Mark. Get your cloak." Draco nodded, still trying to catch his breath. Standing on shaky legs he crossed to the coat rack positioned by the door and grabbed his cloak.

"How good are you at Apparating?" Snape asked, coming to stand behind him. Snape snatched his cloak, clasping it around his neck with a flourish.

"I passed the test." Draco sniffed, pulling the petulance he carried as a child around him like a shield.

"Now is not the time for your insolence, Mr. Malfoy." Snape snapped at him, "Do you remember what I told you? You are a faithful servant." Draco lowered his head for a second, before grunting an affirmative. "Good. Remember your Occlumency walls. He is at the Manor." With a sucking noise followed by a _pop_! His potions professor was gone. Draco took a deep breath before holding his wand in hand and turned on his heel.

Now, Draco stood, having stopped his pacing, outside the doors. He could feel his stomach roll every few moments with nerves as he realized what lay behind the strong walnut door. A flickering thought that he should just run away skirted the inside of his mind, but before he could act on the impulse the door swung open.

Wormtail stood on the other side. His large front teeth perched above his lips, a sneer residing on his thin mouth. The balding man's hair was matted to one side, and he held his hands towards his face as if he intended to clean his cheeks. Draco couldn't help the look of revulsion that crossed his face at seeing this man. He had clearly spent too much time as a rat. Of all the Death Eaters that Draco had come across, he disliked Peter Pettigrew the most. No matter what way he looked at it, Draco couldn't justify the way the man had betrayed his friends. When it came down to it, Wormtail was nothing more than a coward.

The coward relieved Draco of his wand before grabbing him by his upper arm. He led him deeper into the room before flinging him into an empty space in the center.

"Draco," A soft malicious voice whispered through the room. Draco felt sweat prickle at the back of his neck as the voice slithered its way into his stomach. The voice alone could give Draco nightmares, and that had nothing to do with the 'man' the voice belonged to. Voldemort. "Come here." Draco forced himself to move forward. One foot in front of the other. Towards the throne and its occupant.

Taking a quick glance around the room Draco found it relatively empty. His mother stood to the side, next to his father and Severus. Severus had told him that Voldemort had freed his father from Azkaban as a 'reward' for his success. This was the first time Draco had seen his father in almost a year. His father's blond hair was weighed down with grease, and his eyes had dark circles underneath them, but at the sight of his son a light flickered within. His father raised his shoulders a little with beaten down pride, and gave his son a small encouraging nod. The simple gesture helped Draco gain a bit of courage to move closer.

On the other side of the room his Aunt Bellatrix stood next to her husband Rodolphus. Rodolphus' grey hair stood up on end, and his face had a short beard standing guard against his chin. His black eyes watched beadily as Draco continued to move deeper into the room. He had never cared for his Uncle Rodolphus, and now staring at the man Draco got the feeling that the dislike was mutual.

Standing just behind the Lestranges, much to Draco's displeasure, stood the werewolf Fenrir Grayback. The werewolf was cleaning his teeth with a piece of something that looked suspiciously like cracked bone. He gave Draco a toothy grin as the blond made eye contact with his soulless brown eyes. The grin caused an eruption of shivers to race down Draco's spine. Draco quickly looked away but couldn't help but wonder why the werewolf was here. He remembered that the werewolf had been there the night of the battle, and made quick assumption that it had to do with the debriefing.

The room that the Dark Lord had claimed for debriefing was large. Draco remembered that it used to be a study. His grandfather had used this room before his death when Draco had turned 9. It was the worst birthday present he had ever received. Abraxus Malfoy used to play hide and seek with him. Taking the time from his many business meetings and documents to chase the young boy through the study, tickling him mercilessly when he found him. When the youngest Malfoy had gotten older he had just sat in the study with his grandfather while reading, his grandfather occasionally helping him pronounce a word, or understand a phrase.

Then, suddenly…he was dead. Draco had heard whispers of poison, but was too young to grasp what had happened. It wasn't until he was older that he realized that the whispers were mentions of foul play, with his father at the helm of suspicion. With no way to prove it, however, no action was taken against the new Malfoy head of house.

Besides, Draco sneered while staring at the crisp white walls, it was not as if his father had actually done it. It was just rumor. Just a way for bored pureblooded wives to spend their time gossiping like the old crows they were. His grandfather had died of Dragon Pox, as his mother had told him. Draco ignored the dark pit in his stomach that echoed inside his chest when he thought about the time it took for Dragon Pox to actually kill someone and how quickly his grandfather's death had occurred. Those were thoughts best not dwelled on.

The old desk his grandfather used was gone now. As was the loveseat that Draco used to claim as both his reading spot, and the spot for the best blanket forts. The only thing that remained within the pale walls was a large leather winged back chair that now held the Dark Lord. Otherwise the room was empty. Sconces flickered along the walls, reflecting off of the polished wood floors. There was a fireplace in the corner that used to bring warmth and comfort to Draco not so many years ago, but it now stood empty, with no fire inside. No comfort to be found.

"Ah, young Master Malfoy," The Dark Lord sneered, "Welcome home. The Aurors have finally stopped hounding your dear mother every day and moved on to your friends. Now, we may discuss that night without interruption." The room dropped several degrees as Voldemort spoke. Draco came forward a couple more steps before kneeling before the pale faced man. Voldemort's eyes seemed to glow red under the low light. One pale hand rested on his darkly cloaked knee, the other on his wand. He waited patiently for Draco to speak, his bald head resting gently on the back of the chair.

Draco took several deep breaths. He knew that the longer he waited to speak, the less patient the Dark Lord would be. He took a moment to gather his thoughts and organize them in tight little boxes before shifting them around in his mind. A flash of twinkling blue eyes filled his brain as he opened the box inside his mind that stored the memories of the Astronomy Tower, and with a heavy heart looked up at Voldemort.

Voldemort ripped through his mind using Legilimancy. Draco fought back a scream as the man tore through every ounce of memory he could grab hold of. Voldemort's consciousness felt like razors cutting through his mind, and Draco knew from experience that Legilimancy only hurt if you wanted it to.

The Dark Lord always wanted it to.

Voldemort casually reviewed the conversation that Draco had held with Dumbledore over and over again. Draco felt a rush of shame while he relived the memory from under a month ago. It wasn't like it actually mattered. Voldemort would have already reviewed the memories of all the Death Eaters from that night, but still the younger wizard cringed. Draco could feel the Dark Lords unsurprised disappointment when Snape arrived and cast the final curse that killed Professor Dumbledore.

"It seems, Master Malfoy," Voldemort's sing-song voice echoed coldly through the room while he exited Draco's mind with one final tearing sensation, "that you not only failed to dispatch the Headmaster, but that you hesitated when you had your chance." Draco knelt before the Dark Lord, unsteady on his knees like he could topple forward at any moment. He knew he was going to die now. He had hesitated. It wasn't like he had wanted to hesitate, but when brought with the chance to murder someone who he had known for six years…even someone he had disliked, he just couldn't utter those two words. "Severus." The old potions master stepped forward slowly, his face a blank slate of emotion.

Snape cocked one dark eyebrow slightly. The dark hair stood out starkly on his pale face, his voice slow and steady, "My lord?"

"I thought you told me that you couldn't allow the boy to take what you so adamantly wanted. A chance to be rid of the old fool. You never mentioned he had _hesitated_." The last word slipped between Voldemort's teeth slowly. Every syllable was spoken with elegance and in a timber that spawned ice in Draco's veins.

Draco was struck with the sudden thought that not only had he doomed himself, but that he potentially doomed his godfather as well. The one person who had looked out for him all through sixth year. That was something that Draco would not be able to live with. Something that would eat away at his consciousness for as long as he lived.

Before Draco could stop himself the words tumbled forth from his mouth of their own volition, and even after they left he could hardly realize what he said, "He didn't know. He didn't know I hesitated. The blame falls on me, and me alone My Lord." At least he would no longer have to answer to this madman, he inwardly scoffed. Visions of a bright green flash filled Draco's mind followed by mind numbing peace. The only thing that still caused a shiver of fear in him was that he would no longer be able to protect his mother.

"Ah," The Dark Lord crooned, "taking full accountability for your lack of action? That is very noble of you Master Malfoy." Draco winced as the Dark Lord made his way down to where he was kneeling. The dark cloaks surrounding Voldemort seemed to flow and ripple even with the absence of wind, a lingering effect of the dark magic that surrounded the madman. "Self preservation is a trait that you might want to focus more energy in." The voice was so close to Draco's ear that he flinched in reflex. The pale hand of the Dark Lord patted him twice on the head, in some form of sick comfort, before the monster backed away a couple of steps towards the throne. Draco heard a sharp intake of breath from his left, and knew instantly that it was his mother. He wished he had a chance to tell her how sorry he was for failing her. For failing them all.

"I am, however, a merciful Lord. Your actions with the vanishing cabinet did grant access to those loyal to me to Hogwarts. You were able to do _half_ of what I asked. So, I will allow you live," Draco allowed himself just a moment to breathe. Was he going to let him go? Maybe just a short round of the cruciatus as punishment? That was something Draco could live with. The smooth voice continued, "I will allow you to live…as _half_ a wizard."

Draco felt his heart drop into his stomach. Suddenly, Fenrir Greyback's presence in the room made more sense. The punishment was decided long before Draco had ever entered through the old doorway.

Half.

The world echoed through his mind along with the wails of his mother from behind him. She shrieked and begged fruitlessly from the other side of the large space. Draco allowed his grey eyes to raise to her blues for one second. He wanted one moment to see his mother before the punishment was carried out, and he would see her through new eyes. His father was clinging to her tightly, keeping her from running to her only son, even as she fought against his hold. Draco tried to convey the words he couldn't say into his eyes. That he would be ok. That at least he was alive.

For a second Draco wondered if his father would be able to help him. Lucius was no longer in favor with the Dark Lord, but the Malfoy's still maintained a heavy coin purse. Maybe his father could present a case in favor of his son. Convince the Dark Lord that this was a poor path to take, and that there was more ideal punishment.

His eyes then flicked to his fathers, and Lucius Malfoy's slate gaze tore into his son's for just a moment. Two men who were so similar stared at each other before the older Malfoy turned away, pain etched into his normally placid features. Any hope that his father would stand up for him fluttered from the room at that moment.

"My Lord?" The voice was small and meek. So different from when she was blowing up huts and tearing through castle glass. Every eye turned to Bellatrix. "If I may?"

"Your wisdom is always welcome, Bella." The Dark Lord inclined his head, blood red pupils eyeing Bellatrix with mild interest.

"Draco, while a failure," Draco reeled back at those words but listened carefully, "Is the last male heir of two _very_ noble houses. The Black's and the Malfoy's. If he is to be _soiled_ ," Bella's cold black eyes flicked to Greyback who snarled in response, "It leaves the possibility that these houses will die out." Draco could have kissed his aunt. She was actually trying to help him. Her reasonings were fucking stupid-caring only for the purity of the blood line-but at least she was trying. That was more than his father was doing. Draco raised his eyes to watch the exchange. Voldemort seemed to weigh her words before turning and stalking back to his throne.

"Of course you are right, Bella." Draco's heart fluttered for half a second before the last ray of hope was squashed from his soul, "But that just means that you and Narcissa will need to begin taking fertility potions. Will it not?" No one bothered to mention to the Dark Lord that only one heir could be born to the Malfoy line each generation. As it had been for 700 years, since the curse that was placed on his family by a scorned Muggle-born witch. Voldemort, of course, already knew this. They all just muttered their assent, Narcissa's agreement through thick tears. "Fenrir. If you would."

Fenrir grunted happily before he marched forward, grabbing the collar of his robes and dragging Draco to a stone door on the other side of the room. The door led to a small cellar. This was where his grandfather had kept potions ingredients, and his favored Cognac and Firewhiskey. His grandfather had told him that muggles might have been lower than them, but they could distill bloody good spirits. Draco knew, that it had recently been converted into a dungeon of sorts, and had just enough time to realize what was happening before he was thrown through the doorway and onto the cold stone floor.

"You know Malfoy," Fenrir began, taking off his clothes as he spoke, "I 'ave 'ad to take this blasted Wolfsbane potion for a week so I wouldn't kill ya tonight." The wolf sighed, stretching his muscled arms over his head. His accent was thick and improper, making it hard for Draco to understand. "I don't reckon you feel sorry for me though." Malfoy scoffed before backing away to the corner. It wasn't as if being in the corner was going to help the young wizard, but he felt safer nonetheless.

"Don't worry, it wont 'urt. Long as you don't fight me." The werewolf flashed Draco a wicked grin, his teeth already beginning to elongate. "Moons almost up. Won't be long now." Moving his head back as if he could sense the rising moon the wolf released a shuddering breath. Malfoy closed his eyes…praying the night would be swift, the wolf would be relatively gentle, and that he would survive. He only got one of those wishes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry that it has taken me so long to update. I was actually diagnosed with Corona Virus. This paired with an infection in my lungs has left me pretty weak. Here is the next chapter and I hope you like it!


	3. Clandestine Meetings

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I do not own Harry Potter or any characters/locations related to the franchise. That all belongs to J.K. Rowling. I hope you enjoy the only thing I do own...the plot. Also M rating for language and possible sexually explicit scenes (really just wanted to be safe with the rating).

It had been nearly a month since Draco had been bitten by Fenrir Greyback. Bitten. That was a laugh. He had been practically mauled. When the Death Eaters had finally pulled Draco from the dark damp dungeon, he had been bloody and near death. Fenrir had torn his arm asunder, and there were at least seven bite marks along his body.

He had been taken to his mother, and had heard her wails as he clung to life. Wails that now echoed in nightmares that haunted his nights like a plague. She was able to stop the bleeding by staunching the bites with powdered silver and dittany, while forcing him to swallow a blood replenishing potion, but that was it. The cursed wounds would not take to any other spells for healing. That meant that Draco still had several deep bite wounds that had not healed all the way.

He sat in a dingy old bar that smelled vaguely of ale and vomit. Snape had come to him two weeks ago and had told Malfoy he was to meet an old acquaintance in this pub. According to the potions master, the man was familiar with Draco's _condition_ and had promised to help him.

Draco spent several hours over the next few weeks wondering who the mystery man could be. He had attempted to ask Snape, of course, but the older man had snarled at Draco to keep his mouth shut about it. So, that left Draco to his own mental ramblings.

It couldn't have been a Death Eater, as they wouldn't have been stupid enough to attempt to help Draco with his punishment. It could have been a member of Fenrir's pack, but that still was unlikely. The pack were brutes, and most refused to be seen in the wizarding public. More likely it was someone who studied werewolves for a living, and would be able to answer Draco's questions with aloof scholarly precision.

Draco had attempted to order a mug of ale from the old barmaid that occasionally patrolled around the tables, but when he saw the grotesque cup the drink had appeared in he scooted the mug to the middle of the table and hadn't looked back at it. Drinking from the mug wouldn't make Draco sick, the infection that now tainted his blood would kill any virus or bacteria before it had a chance to cause any damage.

Still, Draco thought as he adjusted his cuff links, he had taste buds. And that reeked of almost turned ale. He scrunched his nose at the smell. Over the past few weeks his senses had been on overdrive. He had nearly lost his lunch when a Death Eater had walked by his room the other day. The door had been closed, but the smell had crept under the wood frame and penetrated Draco's sensitive nostrils. Hadn't the bastard heard of a shower. Or a fucking lake.

His sense of smell wasn't the only thing that had bothered Draco. He felt like there was something moving just under his skin. Something itching just below the flesh. Several times he had woken up screaming because he had scratched himself until he had bled. Draco felt like he could _feel_ his blood moving under the skin, and he _hated_ it.

_Merlin. I'm not a pureblood anymore._

The thought had passed through his mind at random the past few weeks. Every time it did his stomach would clench and his heart would speed up. Tell tale signs of an oncoming panic attack. So far he had been able to avoid them, but felt like he was only hanging on by a single thread.

No longer a pureblood. Every time he had snarled at a mudblood for daring to walk in his path. Every time he had told Tracey Davis he wouldn't touch her because she was lesser. It was all for nothing, because now he was even lesser than she was. Almost less than the mudbloods were. Merlin. If he had known he would have taken the blond half-blood when he had the chance. He smirked a little to himself, lost in his memories of the smiling big chested Slytherin. The sudden sound of a body slumping caused Draco to jump a little in his chair when a man scooted into the bench seat across from him.

The man now sitting across from Draco looked haggard. His tweed jacket was wrinkled, and his short mousy brown hair had several patches that stood up at odd ends. His green eyes scanned Draco for several moments before he gave the air one great sniff.

Almost on instinct Draco took a deep breath in through his nose as well. Draco breathed in the scents associated with his new companion. The man smelled strongly of parchment, and even more so of chocolate. Underneath both of those scents, however, was another aroma that smelled musky and wild.

The underlying scent caused Draco's hands to shake, and a tight lead ball to drop into his stomach. Feeling something take over him he curled his lips up over his gleaming white teeth, a rumbling coming from deep in his chest. The man raised his hand placantantly before giving Draco a small smile.

Draco took in a deep calming breath and forced whatever the fuck caused that reaction back into the recesses of his mind. Once he was sure that it was locked up good and tight he relaxed a bit, trying to maintain a sense of composure in front of the older man.

"Well, at least Severus wasn't lying." Finally, the man spoke. It was his voice that triggered the memory. The soft confidence that rang true brought back a classroom that was lit up by the afternoon sun. Professor Lupin.

"Professor." Draco responded curtly, grabbing the abandoned glass mug on the table so he had something to do with his hands. Draco had been secretly impressed with the way the professor had commanded the classroom. He had learned a lot when Lupin taught the young students, and had even had fun during those lessons. Still, he knew that this man was a dirty werewolf who didn't belong in wizarding society. Draco flinched a little at his thoughts…now so was he.

"Mr. Malfoy. I must say, I am not particularly pleased to be seeing you." Draco furrowed his brow a little, "The last time we met you were fleeing from the castle, my mentor dead behind you." The man spoke calmly, but Draco didn't miss the yellow that flashed only briefly in his leaf green eyes. A bright reminder that the man sitting across from him was as dangerous as they come.

Both wolves sniffed the air again when two gentlemen entered the bar. They smelled dirty, but there was no note of hostility among the pungent air that wafted towards their spot in the pub. The table Draco had chosen was near the back, in a corner cast in shadow. It would be clear to any who entered that the two wanted to be left alone. While Draco had waited no one had entered the pub. The only people around had been an old drunkard passed out on a table, and a group of four men who seemed to be celebrating something. The two patrons that had just entered nodded to the barkeep before they broke out in large smiles and hopped up to sit on the stools.

Draco and Professor Lupin both relaxed slightly when they realized that they were not a threat. "I-" Draco began, stopping just as quickly. He flexed his hands around the glass. His fingers wanted to move and tousle his hair, like he loved to do when he was nervous or uncomfortable, but he refused to show weakness around the man. Instead he gritted his teeth, his jaw flexing under the skin until his muscles hurt.

Luckily Lupin took pity on him and just raised a hand, "I am not here for that. I am here because Severus told me what your punishment had been for failing." He hesitated when the barmaid came up and asked him for his drink order, he asked for water and turned back towards the conversation. "I will answer your questions regarding the wolf. That is all."

"Why?" Draco coughed out. "Why help me at all? I-" he couldn't finish his sentence. His cheeks felt warm as shame washed down from deep within him. He had fucked everything up for himself. He knew that night, standing on the astronomy tower that he no longer wanted to be a part of this. He didn't want to be a Death Eater, and _kill_ people. Deep down he had always known that he wasn't strong enough to utter the killing curse, to truly hurt people. But he buried that fear under projections of arrogance and hours of bullying.

"Because you need someone to answer your questions Mr. Malfoy. You need to know what you are up against," Lupin sighed leaning forward slightly so that his forearms rested on the table, "and Fenrir is not the person you want to ask." There were several moments of tense silence in which the barmaid dropped off Lupins water, and Draco's mind raced. There were so many questions he had, but it seemed for a moment that it would be impossible to decide on one. Draco didn't know if he would have another opportunity like this, so he blurted the most pressing thing that was on his mind.

"Will it hurt?" His voice sounded weak, and scared even to his own ears.

Lupin eyed him before taking a slow deep breath. Finally, the older wolf nodded sadly, "Yes. It will hurt, every time. There is nothing you can do to stop it, but I find that drinking water helps before the change. Makes the process more…fluid." He raised his cup in mock cheers before taking a long drink. Lupin sat quietly waiting for Draco's next question.

"What is it like?"

"Have you been drinking wolfsbane?"

"Yes, the past three days." Draco nodded his head, his fingers tracing idle patterns along the glass of the mug. "It tastes bloody awful."

Remus gave a small chuckle before making a noise in agreement. "But, with the potion the wolf won't be so bad. You should be thankful that you have such easy access to the brew, not all of us are that lucky." The man's green eyes flashed over Draco's shoulder as a clouded look appeared over his face. Lupin stared off, lost in his own thoughts for a moment before he pulled himself back to the present. "Do you feel the itching?"

"Yes. What the bloody hell is it?" Draco was startled slightly at the way his voice sounded suspiciously like a growl. The older wizard simply raised an eyebrow slightly, before answering.

"It's the wolf. The closer the full moon gets, the more irritated he will be. It is worse before the first moon."

"Without wolfsbane…what's it like?"

"You feel the wolf, and then you are the wolf. The wolf controls every ounce of you, and it's like you are pushed into a cage in your own mind. You watch everything that happens, but you're powerless to stop it," He paused for a second taking a shaky breath, "I have attacked people I love while under the moon. I would compare it to the Imperius Curse, where you can't control your own actions."

"What's the wolf like?"

"You won't know until you meet him, honestly."

"Meet him?" Draco felt the confusion litter his face.

"Yes, you'll meet your wolf during your first full moon. I don't know what _your_ wolf will be like, because they are all different. Most share common qualities…the rage and desire to hunt. Some have that more than others, like Fenrir. His wolf is strong and has almost completely taken over the man," Lupin raised his hand to silence Draco as he opened his mouth to comment, "That doesn't happen unless the wizard allows it and the wolf is exceptionally strong. I can tell you that the wolves are like separate personalities, and he will feel different than you."

Draco moved his hands to his hair, running his fingers through his blond locks before locking his eyes on the table. This was a lot to take in. He went through the process of storing all this new information in his mind for further use before going down the list of questions he had left. He shuddered when he remembered the only remaining one.

He argued with himself for several seconds before finally deciding it was best to just ask it. He opened his mouth several times, trying to word it the best way. This was the last chance to interview someone who knew about these sorts of things from firsthand experience-at least someone who wasn't going to eat him-so he took a deep breath and pulled what little bravery he had from deep within.

"I read a-about werewolves after I was bitten," Draco rushed out. He took another breath, steadying himself. This was the most embarrassing thing he had ever had to ask. "Most texts mention…well, they mention," Draco lowered his voice to just above a whisper, "mates."

Lupin's eyes gleamed a little with mirth at the younger man's misery. Finally, he smiled and spoke in a similar low tone, "Yes, we have mates. And they are wonderful for some. For others it can be more complicated."

"What do you mean? How do we know who they are?"

"We know who they are by their smell, and instinct. Once you find her… _if_ you find her you will feel a pull to her like no other. It's hard really to explain, but your wolf will know." Remus paused for just a moment, raising his hand and waving away the waitress who had approached their table before continuing, "We have no choice in the mate, and we only get one. The magic is old and powerful and the compulsion to be with the mate after the wolf finds them is almost impossible to ignore." Lupin's face had hardened as he spoke. Draco watched the man's shoulders lower a fraction as if they carried a heavy burden, "Some may never find their mate, and die with a sense of longing that they could never fulfill. It doesn't kill them outright, and you _can_ live without one…but the sense that something is missing will haunt you."

He paused looking off to the side while speaking the next part, his eyes locked on a sconce on the wall next to their booth, "For some, they find their mate in another wolf. A wolf who connects with them in a way others couldn't. They live together happily, and share their secret together. It binds them to one another in a way that you and I cannot understand."

Draco had a feeling deep inside his chest that the other wolf was not done. Gently he prompted the other wizard to continue, "And the others?"

"The bond connects them to a witch or wizard. Someone they will always risk hurting if they want to be with them," The old Defense Against the Dark Arts professor looked sad, there was a hint of water in his eyes when he brought the cup to his lips again. He blinked a couple of times before locking his green eyes on Draco's. He appeared like he was speaking from experience, and Draco felt his stomach clench in empathy for the man. "Some find our mate in a witch who is incredible, beautiful, and our match for wit and measure…knowing we can never be with them. Knowing our curse blocks us from giving ourselves to them." Lupin shook his head quickly, clearing his thoughts. "It is the worst form of torture."

A thick silence settled over their small booth. The ruckus from the bar was beginning to get louder. Every few minutes grungier people stumbled into the old pub. The two sat there for several minutes, Draco absorbing what the old professor had told him. Could he live with himself if he hurt someone? Someone who he could potentially love? "For what it's worth, I'm sorry." Draco mumbled, not really realizing the words were leaving his mouth. "I am sure, whoever she is, she would accept you."

"I know she would," Lupin sighed, a sad smile spread across his face but didn't reach his eyes, "But I can't risk hurting her."

"What makes you think you will."

"We always do." Lupin stood up gruffly from the table, their conversation clearly ending on his terms. "We always hurt the ones we love. That is the last secret about wolves. When they call us a freak, a murderer, and a monster…they're right." Lupin threw a couple of sickles on the table before turning back to Draco.

"If you have any further questions Severus can get a hold of me. No matter what is going on out there," Lupin waved his hand towards the walls of the grimy establishment, "I will try to make time to help you." The older wizard put a strong hand on Draco's shoulder before pulling back and giving him a wane smile. "Good luck on your first moon. The first one will be the most difficult."

"How was yours?" Draco asked quickly. One more question before the man left. That's all he needed. One more answer.

"I was young when it happened. I don't remember much except the pain." Lupin murmured.

"How old were you?" Ok, so maybe more than one more.

"I was four."

"What kind of a monster attacks a four year old?" Draco felt himself stiffen, his stomach rolling again underneath him. He imagined a young Lupin, sandy brown hair on a pudgy face as he was attacked by a werewolf. How did the boy even survive? It wasn't fair that Draco was a wolf, but the fact that Lupin had been one since childhood was cruel.

"We do." Lupin gave him a pat. Draco's stomach lurched at the old professor's admittance. They did. Because they were both wolves. They were monsters, the things that didn't just go bump in the night, but crashed through trees to tear you limb from limb. "Remember to take your potion Draco, every night."

It wasn't until after the war that Draco learned it was Fenrir Greyback was the wolf who had turned Lupin. Once he had, he was just angry he wasn't the one who had taken out the bastard.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N 2: I changed the name from Silver Eyes Under a Silver Moon because I was not happy with it. I like Choices a ton better and hope you do too!


	4. Reborn

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I do not own Harry Potter or any characters/locations related to the franchise. That all belongs to J.K. Rowling. I hope you enjoy the only thing I do own...the plot. Also M rating for language and possible sexually explicit scenes (really just wanted to be safe with the rating).
> 
> Mature Content Ahead: TRIGGER WARNING!: Violence and Mentions of torture. Please read ahead at your own risk!

Draco was able to use that one meeting with Remus Lupin to strengthen his resolve. A few days later during his first full moon, he apparated to a small cottage on the grounds of Malfoy Manor and let the change take him.

The cottage was small, with a sitting room that was just the right size for a werewolf to reside in through the full moon, as long as most of the furniture was taken out. All that was left in the room were pale blue walls, one large bay window, and a large settee off under the clear glass. The settee had a lovely floral pattern, but was currently covered in a white sheet to prevent dust.

Draco smirked at his mothers need for everything to be perfect. This was _supposed_ to be Draco's cottage. It's main use was for when he had friends over. A place for them to be away from the adults, and to relax. Kind of like a child's clubhouse. Narcissa had insisted on decorating it. As such the cottage was drowned in similar floral patterns. Draco had only asked that the bedrooms remain neutral colors. He really didn't need to see flowers when he was trying to shag Daphne Greengrass…or her little sister Astoria.

He let his mind wander over memories of the girls, particularly Astoria, but found that his thoughts didn't excite him the way they typically would. Normally, just the mental image of Astoria's creamy skin would have had Draco hot under the collar, but tonight there was nothing. Chalking that up to nerves before the full moon, Draco stood near the window and watched as the moon rose above the hillside to the east. The moon was almost up...

* * *

" _Moons almost up. Won't be long now." The voice growled as the man tilted his head back to feel the pale rays of the moon. Draco's heart beat faster as he tried to think of a way...any way out. It was a feeble attempt, but still he tried. He raced along the walls in the back, praying that he could find access to servants quarters or another secret tunnel that led away from the fate that lay before him._

_An inhuman wail pulled Draco's attention from the wall that he was clawing at. Before him Fenrir threw his head back as far as it would go and screamed. The bones in his arms began to snap and elongate as his jaw pulled and shifted unnaturally under the skin. Before him Draco saw the man's teeth elongate, and sharpen until they were that of a rabid dog. Fenrir dropped to the floor from either the pain, or in anticipation of his coming form...Draco wasn't sure which._

_Draco heard the sharp_ crack! _of bones breaking and fusing themselves back together. The other wizard's back bent and broke until it was the proper shape, as his shoulder blades pulled forward, adjusting to the new angle of the canid form. The clothes that the bastard had been wearing split and ripped until they fell from his body like he was shedding the only thing that remained that had made him human. Thick, coarse hairs sprouted from the wizards face and down his back until he was covered in tawny fur._

_When the wolf stood. Draco averted his eyes as the beast stalked forward, gaze locked on it's prey. The first bite caught Draco by surprise. The teeth cut through his upper arm until it hit bone. The dog shook him like he was a ragdoll until Draco's screams were drowned out by the sound of breaking bone and tearing flesh. Malfoy tried to fight back, but the wolf was massive, and there was nothing he could do. He had no wand, and he wasn't used to fighting the muggle way. When his fist made contact with the wolf's head right above the ear it released him, but made a growl that sounded eerily like a chuckle before striking again._

_The next bite was on Draco's hip, and while equally painful, didn't bleed as much. Again Draco fought until the beast released him, and again the wolf bit down once more. This time on his foot. They continued this 'game' until Draco had seven total bites._

_One on his upper arm._

_One on his hip._

_One on his left foot._

_Two on his right thigh._

_One on his left calf._

_One on his back shoulder blade._

_And one...one on his chest...right above where his heart was._

_Draco passed out after the one on his chest. Convinced he would never wake back up. That was of course until he heard his mother's pitiful cries. Draco had yet to analyze the disappointment he had felt at knowing he was going to survive._

* * *

Draco pulled himself from the memory with great difficulty, and turned his attention back to the rising moon. For several minutes the moon traveled across the sky, and Draco felt nothing. He allowed himself to hope that something happened and the numerous bites he had suffered did not contain the Lycanthropy virus. That maybe he would be untouched by the curse other than the heightened sense of smell and hearing. That all came crashing down when he felt a slight twinge in his chest.

The slight twinge, right over where his heart was, became a sharp pain. Draco huffed out a couple of breaths, trying to breath through the pain, as his hand clenched on his shirt over his heart. He had not taken off his clothes, foolishly believing that it couldn't be real. That he wasn't really going to turn. Before too long the pain became so intense that Draco fell to the light-colored wooden flooring, his knees stinging from the impact. The slight pain in his knees was quickly forgotten when liquid fire erupted from his chest and spread under his skin through the rest of his body. This must have been what fiendfyre felt like, only it was inside of him. Burning through his veins, cutting through his hands and toes until they curled in on themselves in reflex.

His breathing came in swift pants, the air rushing down his throat so fast it burned. As if the liquid fire wasn't enough pain, he then felt as if every single vertebra in his back was breaking. He stretched his body out trying to relieve the pressure, but it didn't help. Draco heard the first grunt of pain leave his throat, but it was quickly followed by a scream that echoed off the walls. To think he almost didn't cast a silencing spell around the cottage.

His arms suddenly snapped underneath him, the bones severing before shifting and refusing. Draco dropped the pressure from his arms so that he was now laying face first on the ground, screams still tearing out of his throat. He watched in horror as his fingers, which were clinging to the wood, shook and shrank until dark claws erupted from the tips. The slight scratches he was leaving on the floor turned into thick, inch deep gouges.

Draco felt his shirt and trousers rip down their seams, making room for his new body as his torso began to twist and contort, the change claiming him. His head felt like it was going to explode, his jaw began stretching and changing to make room for his new teeth. The pops of bones shifting almost as horrible as the actual pain. The screams that tore through Draco's throat slowly turned into canid whimpers. This pain, Draco decided, was on par with the torture curse.

The weirdest feeling by far was the shifting of his ears which pulled up on his head, wriggling towards the top. The second weirdest feeling was the severe itching of his pale skin. The discomfort preluded fur emerging from his flesh, the strands dark black like a midnight sky. Funnily, Draco had thought he would be a blond werewolf.

Then, as suddenly as it started…the change was done.

Draco huffed a few breaths, his body still trembling slightly from the after affects of the change. He was a true, honest to Merlin werewolf. If Draco was still in human form he may have cried, but as it was he merely whimpered into the empty room. He would never be considered a pureblood again. He was now lesser. He was lesser than all his friends, and if they ever found out what he was he would be ostracized from them. He let out a low whine, terrified of what his future would hold. He was lesser than a half-blood. Almost as low as a Merlin be damned mudblood.

After a couple of moments of pulling himself back together, Draco stood roughly on shaking legs. It felt weird being on four feet instead of two, and after taking a couple of steps to get used to the weight distribution he turned towards the dark hall. Draco inwardly smirked at how easy it was to see in the darkness, with just the light of the pale moon to guide him. His vision was powerful, easily making out the tiniest details of the knick knacks on the shelves in the dark rooms, or the wood grain of the floor beneath his clawed paws. Taking one more moment to steel himself, he began bounding down the hall slowly, making his way-ungracefully in his new body- towards his bedroom. There he found a full-length mirror and stared at his new werewolf form.

He was large, probably standing as tall as a full-grown witch or wizard. He cocked his head to the side as he stared at himself, guessing that he weighed around 25 stone. Otherwise he looked just like an oversized timber wolf. His whole body shook on instinct, the hair shifting around his body loosely as the skin moved in pattern with his shudders. He huffed a chuckle out of his snout at the sight.

His hair was a dark rich black, that seemed to almost suck in what little light there was in the room. It was thick, and tickled when it moved, but he figured he would get used to that. He smirked a little at the dark color, thinking that even in wolf form he looked damn good in black.

His eyes were by far the most interesting part. They were glowing in the dark a bright, metallic silver. When he watched, he could see the reflecting eye shine of a nocturnal predator, and it was both fascinating and terrifying.

 _ **We aren't terrifying, we are magnificent**_. A rumbling voice called in his mind. Draco jumped back on all four of his feet, slipping when he landed and sliding on the ground in an ungraceful heap. _**You will get your feet under you eventually**_ **.** The voice sounded exasperated and annoyed at him. It was deep, but sounded like Draco when he was angry. It was weird hearing his voice echo through his head without purposefully thinking those words.

A bark left Draco's mouth before he realized that he could not speak back. Rolling his eyes he tried to respond in his thoughts. _You the wolf?_ He questioned. There was a deep rumble in his mind that signified a response before Draco felt the feeling of agreeance spread through him. _Well, I hope you are comfortable on the back, because I will never let you steer this broom._ Draco gave his best mental impression of a smirk. He had expected to be met with anger, but instead there was the feeling of annoyance.

 _ **Whatever you say, Human.**_ Draco sighed, and trotted back to the living room. As he walked by he saw the marks he left in the flooring and cringed. Mother was going to kill him. He hopped up onto the couch, and crossed his front paws in front of him. _Now, to sleep away this blasted curse._ Taking a deep breath, he rested his muzzle on his front paws and closed his silver eyes.

Try as he might, Draco couldn't go to sleep. He felt a tug at his heart, like he had forgotten something important. He wished he had his Remembrall with him so he could check and make sure it wasn't just anxiety. _**It's our mate, foolish boy. She calls to us, can't you feel her.**_ Draco rolled his eyes. _**We've touched her before… That's the only reason the pull is this strong already**_ **.**

 _Whatever, just go to sleep._ A growl sounded in his mind, so Draco responded with his own out loud. The sound sounded low in his chest but eventually grew loud enough it caused his whole body to tremble. _SLEEP_.

 _ **Fine. Sleep. But remember, I get stronger with every moon.**_ The wolf began, sounding both smug and patient. _**All it takes is one missed dose and I'll be free to find her**_ **.** Draco rolled his eyes, and allowed his mind to quiet. He was never going to miss a dose, so this whole argument was invalid.

* * *

The months continued much in the same ways as the night in the cottage. The only difference was that while at school Draco changed in the shrieking shack. Funnily enough, Snape brought him there right before his first moon back on campus. The new Headmaster informed Draco crisply that this was where Lupin turned during his tenure at the school, quickly showing him a secret passage under the Whomping Willow.

Draco's seventh year at Hogwarts passed relatively normally other than the Carrows, and their grotesque taste in punishment and practical lessons. He noticed the Golden Trio had elected not to return, and found it slightly disappointing. Who was he going to torture now?

He made sure to take his wolfsbane, but still every full moon he felt like there was something… _someone_ calling him. Draco took to ignoring it. He elected to focus on his studies, or even quidditch to keep his mind off of the ache in his chest. The more he ignored it, however, the more difficult the wolf became. His new 'alter ego' was now able to talk to him for several days leading up to the full moon. When he was awake, the wolf would pester Draco nonstop about finding his mate, but once the moon passed his energy would fade forcing him into the back of Draco's mind.

Draco also quickly realized that he was more agitated just before the moon. This frustration took several forms. He was more quickly angered, irritable, and he also felt like he could run for hours and still have energy to burn. All this Draco could deal with, but he struggled with the overabundance of sexual frustration.

To combat the new sense of frustration, he had taken to sleeping with whatever witch would have him just before the change. A few days before the full moon he would find a pretty witch, and talk her up until he could convince her to share a bed. No matter the witch, though, it barely took the edge off. Draco had even resorted to sleeping with the occasional half-blood in the hopes they could appease him. His wolf would wait patiently until after the witch left the room before laughing at Draco's pathetic attempts. The beast would then remind him that he would always crave this mysterious mate, and that no other _inferior_ witch would do. Draco had told the blasted dog to shut the fuck up.

Everything came to a head the day after the full moon on Easter break. Draco was recovering in his cottage when he heard the pop of apparation. Draco lifted his head from where he rested on the floral couch, and noticed a worried looking house elf standing in the sitting room.

The elf shifted from foot to foot, desperately twisting it's ears as it waited for Draco to acknowledge it. Normally, Draco would wait for a few minutes just to be rude to the creature, but there was something about this one's demeanor that prompted Draco to speak up quicker rather than later. "What is it Rumpa?" He sighed.

"Mistress Malfoy requests your presence in the east drawing room as quickly as possible." The elf squeaked, blinking his big green eyes at the blond.

"What for?" Draco prompted, sitting up on the couch and pulling on a pair of trousers he had stored under the cushions.

"There is a witch and two wizards in the home. They tracked mud all up the carpet, and Mistress wants Master Draco to see them." The elf replied. Draco shook his head, something wasn't adding up. His mother never bothered him the day after the full moon. Something wasn't right. Draco quickly put on his shirt, and waved his wand over his hair so that it was styled perfectly.

Once he was satisfied with his appearance, other than the seemingly permanent dark bags under his eyes, he took the elfs hand, "Lead the way Rumpa." The elf nodded, before disapparating them both with a snap of his long, bony fingers.

The elf dropped Draco off just outside the drawing room. Draco cracked his neck, straightening his sleeves and squaring his shoulders. There was no need to look disheveled. He didn't want to give any present Death Eaters any more ammunition about his newfound status than before. Oh, how the great Malfoy's had fallen. Draco sneered slightly, adjusting his cufflinks, one final time before stepping forward with his usually cool grace.

Standing just outside the door, Draco took one deep breath through his nose-with the intention of steadying his nerves-and immediately felt like his world had been tilted off kilter. Draco stumbled backward, looking like he had been punched in the gut, and leaned up against the opposite wall for support.

The smell. It was buried under the scent of sweat, fear, and earth, but it was still there. His heart began to pound erratically as he took another deep breath through his nose, clinging to the smell like a vine to the side of his cabin. It smelled perfect…like lavender and…cool autumn rain.

The scent roused the wolf within. The beast which normally would be dormant until the next moon cycle awoke within Draco's mind, and began to slam itself against his consciousness. _**MINE**_. The wolf called from within, but even without the barbaric, possessive proclamation Draco knew what lay beyond the door. His mate.

Draco steadied himself with a couple of breaths, allowing her scent to cling to his consciousness, immediately knowing that he had to see her. To see the woman who would fill the gaping hole in his chest. He could already feel the connection blooming in his heart. This woman, whoever she was, was going to help him build a life. Was going to help him create a family. Would be his other half in every way. Draco shook his head, determination erupting across his normally stoic features. He had to see her. He had to mark her as his before he lost her.

Rushing forward Draco grabbed the door handle and yanked it open. Draco pushed into the room with a cool confidence, wanting the woman's first glance of him to be of him in control. He needed to make a good first impression. Quickly his grey eyes scanned the room, taking stock of the snatchers…all men…who clung to their prisoners.

His heart began to clench when he realized that his mate wasn't a member of the guests in his house. He obstinately refused to look at the three people on their knees, praying he was wrong. He looked on the other side of the room, wanting more than anything for another guest to be hiding amongst the perfectly positioned furniture and rare antiques. The only other people in the room were his mother, father, Aunt, and Fenrir.

Draco felt panic rise in his chest. A feminine voice from behind him cried out in pain. There was only one other woman in the room, and she was currently being held by one of the snatchers. Draco felt like his entire world was shattering, his breath stolen from inside him making room for the panic that had begun to build. Slowly, he turned to face the prisoners, his mind grasping at straws while he did.

Maybe she was a no one. Maybe he could convince his father and mother to let her be his…well his prisoner. Maybe they would understand, and he could just keep her. He could probably afford to buy her from the snatchers, to keep her away from the ministry. He would just throw money at them until they left her here…with him. Where he could keep her safe from the dangers out there.

His eyes landed on bushy hair, and his vision blurred slightly. He hesitated, refusing to continue the downward sweep to who he knew was underneath _that_ hair. No. He had to hope that she wasn't who he _knew_ she was.

His mind worked through every scenario he could concoct as a way to have her. A way to protect her, whoever she was, from the Dark Lord. But when he finally lowered his gaze to stare at the witch, currently pulling against the man who forced her on her knees with unwavering defiance…he knew Lupin had been right.

He would never be able to have her, because the woman who resolutely fought against her captures on the other side of the room was the one woman that he could never have. The one woman he wouldn't be able to protect, no matter his status or galleons. The one woman who wouldn't have him even if he could look past her blood status. Harry Potter's best friend. The swot extrondianar.

Granger.

Idly he answered his father's questions when prompted. He tried to answer in a way to buy him some time. Time to figure out how to get her out of this mess, because if he could get her out of here at least she would survive. Before he could register what was being said his Aunt's voice was ricocheting off the walls as she hollered at the snatchers. His eyes tracked the scene unseeing while Weaslebee and Potter were dragged from the room, and his mate was hauled across the floor by his Aunt's grip on her thick hair.

The pain that pierced his chest was like nothing he had ever felt in his life. The pain outpaced that of both the torture curse and the change. Before he could stop the sound a whimper shot out of his mouth. Fenrir's face scrunched up at the sound, his eyes locking on Draco's before quickly looking between the blond and the mudblood currently on the floor. A look of recognition was quickly replaced by a feral gleam in the werewolf's eyes. He quickly asked Bellatrix if he could have her once the crazed witch was done. His aunt readily agreed.

Draco, half crazed at the thought of Fenrir touching his mate, started forward with every intention of killing the bastard. He was stopped by a leg-lock jinx before he made it two steps. Draco barely had time to register what happened to make his legs stop working when his mother crossed the room in a single brisk movement, stopping at his side.

" _Imperio_ ," His mother's voice called out, tight and tinged on the ends with regret, "You will stand here and you will remain still, my dragon. Don't you utter a single sound until you have been dismissed." Draco let the Imperius Curse wash over him, thankful to have his choices taken away before he did something that would get everyone he loved killed. He knew without a doubt his mother would fight to protect him, even putting herself in danger to do so, and that was something that Draco could not allow to happen.

So, Draco stood there and watched his Aunt torture his mate. His heart cracked with each sound of her screams and his soul broke when his Aunt pulled out the cursed dagger. He smelled the iron of her blood, and felt a single tear slide down his face at the same time one slid down hers. His wolf fought against the barrier inside his mind, but Draco focused on keeping the cage tightly locked. Reminding the wolf in reassuring tones that there was nothing they could do that wouldn't end up with both of them dead. The wolf disagreed and fought against him with even more vigor.

In the end, when Potter and Weasley took his mate from him with the aid of his former house-elf, Draco was relieved. His mother commanded him to fight, utilizing her control over him with the Imperius, but he barely moved. Only defending himself, one eye still trained on the brunette witch on the floor next to him. When it was all over, he didn't even care that Potter had taken his wand. He was just so thankful that the other wizards had taken her away from this house, away from him. Even if it meant that he could never have her.

Because he knew she would never forgive him for watching and doing nothing. Fuck…he couldn't even forgive himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N 2: I know I know...another Title change. I am sorry. This was the last one I promise. I wanted to tie back in the choices to the moon because well...this is a werewolf fic. I am sorry folks. I hope you forgive me!


	5. Meeting a Weasley

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I do not own Harry Potter or any characters/locations related to the franchise. That all belongs to J.K. Rowling. I hope you enjoy the only thing I do own...the plot. Also M rating for language and possible sexually explicit scenes (really just wanted to be safe with the rating).

Once alone in his room Draco fire-called Snape using the floo network, requesting a conference with Lupin for the first time since his mentor had set up the original meeting. To his credit, Snape didn't ask any questions, he only told Draco when and where to meet the older wolf.

Draco arrived at the same old pub he had originally met Lupin at-the Black Broomstick-with time to spare. He chose to use apparition to limit the possibility of being followed, even though the likelihood of anyone taking that much interest in him at all was slim. They had decided that they needed to wait a week before they could meet to prevent suspicion. It was dark, and the moon was barely present in the sky. Draco pulled his cloak high over his head to block his platinum hair from the deep amber of the torches before scurrying inside as quickly as possible.

Draco, unfortunately, had endured hours of the cruciatus from his Aunt for failing to out duel Potter. Luckily, the young wizard was not seen as the biggest failure in the eyes of his 'master' this time, and was able to escape without punishment from the Dark Lord. The blame, it seemed, fell on Bellatrix for allowing her emotions to get the better of her. The Dark Lord had tortured her for so long that she was still fighting off the aftereffects of the curse. Draco couldn't bring himself to care about his Aunts newfound twitch, as far as he was concerned she bloody well deserved it.

Draco skulked back to the same booth he had sat in the last time, taking a seat on the old stained polyester, the springs in the seat creaking in protest. The pub was busier this time around, with several groups of men jostling about and laughing in boisterous, alcohol fueled guffaws. Draco cringed back as one of the patrons swayed unsteadily on his feet, spilling sticky ale down the side of his table. Using the edge of his cloak, the drunkard wiped down the wood with a muffled "sorry 'bout that," before turning back to his table of companions.

Draco didn't even give a man a nod, intent on keeping his head down, and any emotion absent from his face. His already limited emotions had been buried deep inside of him ever since his mother had lifted the damn imperio. He couldn't allow them to flood him, because if they did he might not be able to force them back down.

Silently he waited for the arrival of the other wizard. His wolf continued to pace in the back of his mind, refusing to rest after watching the torture of it's mate. It had berated Draco the entire time he had endured the torture curse. The wolf had growled that he had deserved to feel what his mate had felt. That he deserved to die for what he allowed to happen to her. The wolf was right.

Draco was so lost in his own self pity that he didn't notice Lupin enter the establishment, or the redhead that was with him. He only realized someone was there when a comforting hand rested on his shoulder. Lupin patted the blond lightly, keeping his eyes on the table while Draco ran a hand roughly down his face. Finally, Draco looked up finding a new set of blue eyes staring at him.

"If you are here to kill me, I won't fight you." Malfoy shrugged his shoulders before sighing heavily, "Not that I could, Potter took my wand."

"Bill Weasley," the new wizard offered his hand, a grim look plastered on his pale face. He looked like Ron, other than the three slash marks down his face and the earring. He stood a hair shorter than Lupin, but held himself taller and with more confidence than the other wizard did. Draco eyed his hand wearily before he gave it one strong shake. Both wizards took off their cloaks and laid them down on the booth seat before sitting down.

Lupin waited for the drinks to be delivered before he spoke, "What do you need Mr. Malfoy?"

Draco glanced over Bill, before flicking his eyes back to Lupin in question. "Young Bill here is for my protection. I just came from a location that houses three of our mutual acquaintances. It seems that they had a run in at your house." Draco lowered his head ashamed, "I don't blame you Mr. Malfoy, I just couldn't risk this being a trap. Bill here has Lycanthropy as well, a mild case, but anything you say regarding the affliction will remain between us. Now, what did you need?" Draco nodded after several moments, absorbing what was just said. He wondered for a brief moment if he could trust the Weasley. If he honestly could trust Lupin. Finally, he coughed to clear his throat before allowing himself to speak, he was too tired to really care who he could trust anymore.

"I found her." He murmured.

"Your Mate?" Lupin prompted carefully. Draco nodded, his eyes locking on the twisting wood of the table. Lupin hesitated, "How did you find her? Who is she?"

"She was at my house. One week ago." His throat was thick with emotion. Both men across the table took in a sharp intake of breath, not seeming to need any more clarification on who _she_ was. The silence that echoed around their booth was heavy. It weighed down on Draco's shoulders, making him feel like he could sink into the cushion of the booth and become one with the furniture. The Weasley broke the silence eventually, but the heaviness remained.

"And you let them-" Bill was so angry that he couldn't even finish his sentence. The fury that colored the man's voice was well aimed at Draco, and he sat there allowing it to wash over him. He needed someone to make him feel like he deserved to feel. He needed someone to hurt him. Even if Draco didn't want Hermione, and when he was honest with himself he wasn't sure he did, he had still allowed her to be tortured. Tortured in his home.

"Yes."

"You fucking bastard. How could you?" Bill slammed his glass down on the table so hard it shattered. Remus, barely fazed, flicked his wand and the shards of glass vanished with a small _pop_.

"Because, William, if Draco would have revealed his connection, they both would be dead." Lupin spoke calmly, but Draco didn't miss the anger resting just below his hard green eyes.

"I could have-" Draco began, but quickly lost his voice. His throat felt dry and he couldn't bring himself to continue speaking. Part of him wondered if he would have actually tried to protect her. If he was willing to risk his hide for her…a mudblood.

"Does she know?" Lupin asked quietly. Draco shook his head, unable to find his voice in that moment. "Does anyone?"

"Maybe-Maybe Greyback. Maybe my mother." Draco frowned, not liking the idea of either of those people knowing who the little witch was to him. It put a target on her back. Well, a bigger target on her back.

"What do you want us to do?" Lupin asked steadily. He took a sip of the drink that had been dropped off at the table, but his eyes never left the younger wizard across from him.

"I don't know." Draco huffed quietly. "I guess I needed advice on how to ignore this bloody bond."

"Ignore it?" Bill scoffed, "What do you fucking mean ignore it."

"Not now, Bill." Lupin scolded.

"You tried to ignore it, Lupin. Look where it got you! You can't ignore the fucking bond." Bill ran a hand through his hair as he spoke, clearly getting more agitated by the second and with every word he spoke. "The bond is sacred, and you cannot stop it. Why would you want to ignore it?"

"I don't want this bloody bond!" Draco nearly yelled. Eventually he closed his eyes, taking several deep breaths before he pushed the words out through clenched teeth. "She is a fucking mudblood for Salazar's sake."

Both men on the other side of the table stiffened. Bill looked murderous, his hand reaching for his pocket, but Lupin put a calming hand on his shoulder before the redhead could grab what was clearly his wand. The voices around the pub continued, and a slight shouting on the other side of the room drew the attention of the three wizards in the booth. They all turned, appraising the growing discontent across the pub, before deciding that it was nothing more than your average bar fight. The pub owner was already breaking it up, and forcing the participants out the door. Settling back down in their seats, and allowing themselves to relax a little they turned back to each other.

"Yes, she is a muggleborn." Lupin responded. "What does that matter?"

"What does it matter?" Draco rolled his eyes towards the ceiling at the man's ignorance. "It matters. She is…she is everything I have been taught to fucking hate. I can't stand the fact that part of me wants to die because of what I let happen to her. I used to harass her daily…but now I feel this fucking bond towards her? I don't want it. I want to be free…to be able to be with the witches I want. Witches that I love."

"Witches you love? You can't love other witches! Not really you daft knob-"

"I want the fucking _choice_!" Draco yelled this time, slamming his hand on the table, effectively ending Bill's insult. The redhead paused, his mouth clicking shut as Draco continued. "I want to be able to choose who I love. But now I can't. Can I?" Draco's chest was heaving as he finished his tirade, waiting for the answer. Bill seemed to deflate a little, and both men looked at him with pity in their eyes. "I don't want her. She is annoying, and a swot. She is vile, and not worth it. I don't want to have to love her, she is everything I don't want. She is not worth this. She is-" Draco nearly cracked.

He knew he was repeating himself, but he couldn't help it. He couldn't help the fact that he was beginning to sound like a petulant child. His emotions were boiling and every thought he had buried inside of his mind was breaking at the surface. His heart was thumping so loud he could barely hear the cacophony of voices in the pub around him. All he could really hear was the wolf snarling at all the insults Draco had just thrown at Granger.

"She is your mate." Lupin finished for him. There was a sadness in his voice that hadn't been there earlier. Draco flinched at the term, his eyebrows low on his head as he listened to Remus speak in soothing tones, "It is not fair. I know it's not. But, remember what I said last time. You can live without her, it will just be difficult. You will constantly feel the bond, but you will be able to ignore it."

"What about her?" Draco ventured, his grey eyes pleading, "Can she feel it too?"

"No," Lupin whispered, the sad smile he wore back on his face. Green eyes stared at Draco, filled with kindred sorrow and pity, "As far as I know she will be unable to feel the bond. She should be able to live her life none the wiser."

"You're wrong about her though," Bill hissed, nabbing Draco's drink before downing it in one quick gulp, "She is worth so much _more_ than _you_." Bill stood quickly grabbing his cloak and throwing it around his shoulders.

"You are going to need to take a good look in the mirror Malfoy, and you are going to need to ask yourself a couple of crucial questions. Do you really believe all that shite your parents taught you? And are your prejudices worth living your life with a piece of your soul missing? Because that's what it is going to feel like, because like it or not…she is your soulmate. The only woman who can match you in every way. You better bloody hope she forgives you. Personally, I hope she doesn't." The redhead punctuated his speech by turning on his heel and stalking away from the table, and began fighting his way through the growing mass of bodies. Once he made it through the central part of the pub, he leaned impatiently against the wall at the door and waited for Lupin to follow. His hand remained tucked in his pocket, securely holding his wand.

Lupin released a long sigh before standing up. He patted a hand on Draco's shoulder before speaking in his calming voice, "If you should have need of me again, Snape knows how to contact me."

Draco waited for a moment, trying to act like he didn't care. Really what did he care? It honestly didn't matter in the end. He took a couple of deep breaths, trying to reason with himself. But he was divided, and in the end he had to know. "Is she alright?"

Lupin turned around back to the younger wizard and gave him a small smile, "She's going to be fine." A final nod in Draco's direction signified the end of the discussion between the two wolves. The older wizard met with Bill by the door, and the two left the establishment together.

Draco hated the fact that those simple words allowed him to relax. He hated that now that he knew she was going to be fine his body was able to feel the exhaustion of the last week. He hated that the wolf now didn't pace constantly in his mind, and instead laid down…still awake but blessedly quiet. And most of all he hated the betraying thoughts in his mind, all centered around one thing.

That even if he died in the coming war, at least she was going to be alright. At least she wouldn't have died due to his inability to help her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Holiday's everyone! Here is the next installment. I hope everyone like's it and has a wonderful holiday season. I should be posting SEMI regularly. I think every two weeks will be good! Feel free to leave reviews below, as I love to read your guys' opinions!


	6. Tea Tuesdays

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I do not own Harry Potter or any characters/locations related to the franchise. That all belongs to J.K. Rowling. I hope you enjoy the only thing I do own...the plot. Also M rating for language and possible sexually explicit scenes (really just wanted to be safe with the rating).

**7 Years Later February 23, 2005 1 day until the Full Moon**

Draco sat behind his desk in the Ministry's Department of Magical Law Enforcement. His head was lowered over a stack of paperwork that had needed to be filled out and filed yesterday. Unfortunately, it was coming up on the full moon. It was tomorrow in fact, and Draco's focus was shot. His boss was absurdly understanding when it came to this, and gave Draco until the end of the week to finish his reports.

Draco became a part of the auror division during his probation at the end of the Second Wizarding War. His main focus was on accidents involving wizards and muggles. It was believed that working closely with muggles would better educate Draco on how these people were similar to wizards. It gave Draco a working knowledge of muggles, and succeeded in expanding his acceptance of them. Though he still felt that wizards were slightly better.

In the end he had decided he rather liked working as an auror, and slowly worked his way up to a full fledged member. Days like today made Draco regret it, as the ink blotted pages began to blur under his tired eyes.

The only sound in the small room was the scratch of his quill against the pale parchment. Draco continued working, checking the occasional box for 'cursed item' and writing a full work up of what he did in order to properly dispose of the item, using meticulous detail until his hand cramped. After he finished the report he was working on he let out a huff of breath. He had been at it for two hours already and it wasn't even eight in the morning.

These days he was one of the highest paid members of the Auror team. Between brewing potions regularly for the department, and helping with the disposal of cursed or otherwise tainted artefacts, he had quickly become indispensable.

Leaning back in his chair he ran a hand down his tired face. Slowly, he allowed his eyes to drift around his office, giving them a break from the tight scrawl of his handwriting. His office was small and cozy, with a tiny potions station in the back corner. He had a wall lined entirely with bookshelves that had different potions books, and other research materials. There were also one or two hidden novels amongst the other tomes, but most people didn't look closely enough at the shelf to find them. They were his own personal hidden treasures.

Idly, he checked the time, and seeing it coming up on eight, he flicked his wand at the door. It opened slowly, allowing him a good view of the entire department floor, and more importantly, his bosses office right across the way. The frosted windowed door prevented Draco from seeing his superior, but it still allowed him to view the shadowed figure moving around beyond the glass.

It was Tuesday today. Draco's favorite day of the week. He smiled to himself while he ran his fingers through his hair trying his best to comb it, even though he knew no one would actually see it. Adjusting his cufflinks, a habit he had acquired when he was nervous, he chewed on his bottom lip until it hurt. The anticipation was mixed with self loathing, and for just a second he allowed it to slip away. For one moment he pretended things were different. Eight chimed on the clock in the corner of his office, and he heard the lift doors open down the hall.

He took a deep breath in through his nose. Lavender, Earl Grey tea, and fresh autumn rain.

Draco loved Tuesdays.

She smiled as she floated across the office floor, nodding to fellow former classmates before stopping in front of his superior's door. She had two cups of tea in her hand, and knocked on the door with her elbow. There was a haunted look in her eyes for half a second while she waited, but she quickly erased the look and straightened her shoulders. Draco had the suspicion no one saw the look that had tainted her eyes but him.

He could hear her laugh gently when the door opened to reveal a raven haired man, with round eyeglasses. She handed him his cup which Harry Potter, boy who lived and current Head Auror, took graciously.

Tea Tuesdays.

If anyone would ask him why he loved Tuesdays so much, Draco would tell them it was because floo traffic wasn't terrible, or that after getting all the work done from the weekend on Monday it was a day of relaxing paperwork. He might even tell them that every Tuesday he met with his best friends Theodore Nott, and Blaise Zabini for a pint after work which he enjoyed. He might tell them that Tuesdays have been his favorite since he was a child, when his mother would take him to the lake behind the manor to fly his broomstick without his helmet.

But, at night, when the only person he had left to lie to was himself, he could admit it was because of her. Every Tuesday for five years she had brought up a cup of tea to her best friend, and they had shared it within his view. He could watch her at a safe distance, and still maintain that he hated her in public. The only one who had ever noticed was Harry.

The boy-who-was-a-thorn-in-Draco's-side looked over the witch's shoulder at that moment and cocked an eyebrow at Draco. The blond returned the gesture before rolling his eyes. Harry knew about Draco's affliction.

Once Potter took the promotion he was given a full report on all of his underlings. The fact that Draco was a 'werewolf' was recorded on his record, right next to 'former Death Eater'. It wasn't long before Harry had pulled him aside, and had spoken to him at length about how if he needed anything, to just let him know. Draco had, of course, told him to sod off.

Now, Draco was fairly certain that Harry knew what Hermione was to him. His mate. The only time Draco's door was open was on Tea Tuesdays, and this wasn't the first time he had been caught staring.

Draco lowered his gaze to his desk for a couple of moments, willing his resolve to strengthen. These Tuesdays helped the wolf calm down. Being able to see that she was alive and well helped keep his self control maintained. He looked up in time to see Harry place a comforting hand on her shoulder. Draco nearly let the wolf take control and growl at the simple contact between Harry and Hermione, but tamped down that instinct like he had to for the past five years.

He had gotten pretty damn good at it too! You had to get good at it, when your mate was currently engaged to another man. His eyes flicked up to her hand, where a simple square cut diamond rested. He saw it glitter in the light as they spoke, tiny fractures of sparkles like a spot light against his improved eyesight.

The Weasel had proposed to her two years ago. It was a long engagement, and there was a lot of speculation as to why that was. Was the weasel cheating on her? Were they not ready for 100% commitment? Was she not in love with him? Draco forced away the fluttering that erupted in his stomach at that last thought.

It didn't matter if the Weasel and her were in love or not. It certainly didn't matter if Draco was in love with her. And he definitely wasn't... He definitely wasn't going to approach her regarding his affliction and it's connection to her. So, for now, he settled with watching her from a distance…for the sake of keeping the wolf calm.

Her harsh laughter brought his head back up to her face, and he watched curiously as Potter scrunched his brow in confusion. She was smiling, but just under the smile was the flash of pain buried in her chocolate eyes. Potter whispered something to her, his emerald eyes beseeching her before pulling her quickly into his office and closing the door behind them. Draco huffed at his view being obstructed, but feeling the wolf calming beneath his skin he forced himself to close the door to his office.

Seven more days. One hundred and sixty eight more hours. Ten thousand and eighty minutes.

The thought floated unwanted in his mind. The mental countdown that always started when he finally pulled himself from her intoxicating view. He grabbed the paperwork on his desk and slammed it inside a drawer before going to his potion's lab. Focusing on brewing blood replenishing potions, he allowed the monotony of potion making to numb his mind.

The Auror's needed to have a Potions master on retainer. Someone who could make them blood replenishing potions and veritaserum, among others. It was now policy for an Auror to carry at least a replenishing potion on his person at all times…just in case.

The position also allowed Draco to brew his wolfsbane in relative privacy and guaranteed he would always have access to the ingredients needed. Potter had made sure that all the ingredients were brought to Draco the day after the full moon, so he could begin his brewing whenever he wanted.

Draco had studied under Severus for a few months before the former Slytherin Head of House had died in the battle. The first few attempts he had at making it after his godfather's fall had accounted for weak draughts that barely allowed Draco to maintain control. Now, his brew was as strong as Severus', and allowed him to keep complete authority over the furry beast.

He missed Severus. He missed his snarky attitude, and his need to berate Draco for even the tiniest mistakes. Draco knew that if Snape hadn't been so hard on him, he never would have passed his potions mastery exam. Not to mention the constant subtle protections that Severus had extended not just to Draco, but to his mother and father as well. Draco would forever be in the dead man's debt, and he hated that he hadn't said thank you enough while the man was alive.

A confident knock at his office door pulled Draco from his dark thoughts. He grunted permission for the intruder to enter, before waving his wand and placing a stasis charm on the bubbling caldron. Harry walked in quickly, closing the door behind him, before plopping down on one of the cushioned chairs for guests.

"I need a favor, Malfoy." He pronounced, cleaning his glasses with the corner of his robes. Draco made a mental note to put a sign on his door next time he was brewing. The git was waiting for a response so Draco turned on his stool, before leaning back against the desk his caldron sat on.

"I'm listening, Potter."

"I need to borrow your Manor." Draco's eyes widened fractionally. He shook his blond hair until the fringe fell into his eyes.

"Borrow it? It's not a bloody broom." Draco scoffed, pushing himself from the stool and sauntering over to his desk before slowly sitting down in his own chair.

"I know. The Department of Magical Cooperation is entertaining a couple of guests from the American and Bulgarian Magisterium's, along with several benefactors and we need a place to have a lavish party." Harry rolled his eyes when he said 'lavish'.

"So, you thought you would just stroll into my office and demand the Manor?" Draco folded his hands on the desk and waited. The boy who lived looked over at his bookshelf, his eyes roaming the tomes. He skipped right over the novels, just like everyone else. Draco smirked…still his secret treasures.

"No. I asked. Rather politely I might add."

"My house is not a banquet hall for rent." Draco's eyes narrowed, his lip curling in disgust.

"Listen, I suggested the Ministry or a hotel. But she wants to impress them. She thinks it will increase the likelihood of the new foreign exchange student policy to go into effect." Harry's hand waved through the air like he was swatting a fly.

Draco's heart lurched a little. He slipped his tongue out from in between his lips, wetting them before speaking in a near whisper, "Who?"

"What?"

Draco could have screamed at the man's ignorance. "Who needs the Manor?"

"Oh, uh Hermione does." Harry's lips lifted into a knowing smirk as Draco tried to catch his breath.

"When?"

"Next month…the twenty-fourth I think, it's a Thursday…I don't know why she picked a bloody weekday." Harry rolled his eyes, and missed the way Draco's face turned bright red as he spoke.

"Next month! She has left herself a month to plan a party?" Draco's voice raised. He couldn't help it. Who thought they could plan a suitable party for dignitaries in a month?

"She has had a lot on her mind…I think this slipped." Draco didn't miss the way the brunette lowered his gaze, or how he shifted in his seat.

The words slipped unbidden from Malfoy's mouth before he could stop himself, "Is she alright?" He silently cursed himself for his concern. Not that he was concerned.

"Yeah," Harry's voice was quiet, and he lifted his head and gave Draco a small smile. "She's fine." Draco nodded, his mind reeling as he tried to tell himself that he really didn't care if she was alright. She was not his concern. Not for another ten thousand and fifty-five minutes.

She needed help though. As much as Draco didn't want her, he could respect all that she had accomplished in the past few years, and having accomplished those things meant that people and creatures had more rights than they did before. She had recently been transferred to the Department of Magical Cooperation (DMC) and needed a win in this new department so she could start making more changes. Draco could give her this win, without even having to be near her. The wolf almost purred at the thought of being able to help her. Draco sighed for a moment before leaning back in his chair. There really wasn't a chance that he wouldn't have said yes.

"She can," Draco coughed to clear his throat. "She can use the manor. Tell her to reach out to Mother, if anyone can plan a party in under a month…it's her." Harry smiled, standing swiftly to leave.

"I'll let her know. Thanks, Malfoy." Draco gave him a single nod and lowered his head back down to his desk. He grabbed a piece of parchment and began writing a quick note to Zabini. He barely noticed when the door closed signaling Potter's exit. Instead, he chose to focus on the parchment. The note was short and he charmed it to fly down to Zabini's department. He then pulled a second piece of parchment out and penned another note to an old friend. Looks like drinks with the boys would have to wait until next week. He turned back to the potion he left brewing on his station. Letting out a sigh, he fell back into the world of exact measurements and the soothing circles of ladles.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you think! Thank you everyone for the reviews, and now that we have time-jumped we can get into the real meat of the story!


	7. Two Wizards and a Bottle

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I do not own Harry Potter or any characters/locations related to the franchise. That all belongs to J.K. Rowling. I hope you enjoy the only thing I do own...the plot. Also M rating for language and possible sexually explicit scenes (really just wanted to be safe with the rating).

Three hours later Draco found himself sitting in a familiar booth in the back of an old pub. It had recently been redone since the war. Gone was the stale scent of ale mixed with old vomit. Now, as Draco glanced around the room his nose was hit with the soft smell of fresh shepherd's pie, and chips. The floors were clean, and Draco often wondered if they were always made of stone underneath all the years of built up dirt. The old barkeep had been replaced with a young witch named Penelope, or Penny to the regulars.

When Draco had arrived, he flashed a bright smile over to Penny and held up two fingers, indicating he would need two drinks. She nodded, before bringing three cups - one for herself - over to him and filling it with her personal stash of Ogdens before hauling a chair up next to him. The bottle she brought was already partially empty, but was an excellent year.

"How are you, Draco?" She asked over her own glass. "Haven't seen you around here in a few months." Draco gave her another smile. For years she had played this game of trying to convince Draco to go home with her, but she had yet to catch him. Not that she wasn't pretty enough. Her hair was a deep auburn, and her eyes almost glowed green like fresh grass after a rain. She had a curvy figure that she accentuated under fitted robes. She was just…not his mate. Under her relatively pleasant scent of lemongrass and air dried laundry was a scent that was just wrong. Still he smiled and gave her a wink, not missing the pink blush that graced her pale skin.

"You know I always come back. This is one of my favorite places. It has some of my favorite witches," He let his face tilt up into a flirtatious smirk, "Just been busy these past few months." He sipped his drink, letting it warm him up from the inside out. "How about you Penny? Been busy?"

"Yeah I have. Though I would always make time for my favorite regular if he needed it." She gave him a lascivious smile, but the sound of the door opening pulled them from their banter. The flash of fiery red hair caused Penny to clear her throat before excusing herself. She knew that once the Weasley arrived, conversation between Draco and anyone else stopped.

"Malfoy," Bill grunted before lowering himself into the seat. It had been this way since Lupin had died in the war. Bill had agreed to look out for Draco before the older wolf was killed, and had kept up with the promise over these past few years. Bill had reached out to Draco after the battle of Hogwarts, letting him know he would be there if Draco needed to talk. They had disliked each other the first few years, but slowly old prejudices faded away and a reluctant friendship took its place. Now, Draco could easily say that the older wizard was his best friend.

Bill pulled the bottle of Ogdens over to his side of the table, poured himself a generous amount of the slightly smoking amber liquid, before sliding it back to the younger wizard. Draco followed the example and they both took a long drink before conversation began. "What's got you so worked up?" Bill asked after several moments of thick silence.

"I saw her today." Draco sighed, he kept his eyes on the older wizard. Bill scrunched the skin between his eyes in confusion before shrugging.

"You see her every Tuesday." Draco took another long sip before shuddering as the alcohol crept down his throat. He gave the redhead a wane smile. Bill was right of course, Draco did see her every Tuesday, and usually that wouldn't warrant a meeting between the two wizards.

"Today she needed a favor." Bill cocked an eyebrow in question, "Potter informed me that the Department of Magical Cooperation needs a place to hold a grand gala." Draco allowed his voice to take on his aristocratic sneer. One that he tried to bury in the ground, right next to his father.

"Let me guess, Malfoy Manor is the only place that will do?" Bill's voice took on a teasing quality, smirking playfully over his glass of whiskey.

"Got it on the first try, Weasley. Want a prize?" Draco poured himself another, before raising his hand to Penny to let her know they would need another bottle. She nodded, having a server bring them another from the secret stash and take the empty bottle away. "Tell Penny to keep an eye out, we might need another bottle before the night's up." The young blonde serving-witch nodded, her blue eyes sparkling. When neither wizard returned her flirtations she humphed, turning on her heel to do as she was asked.

"What's wrong with her borrowing the manor?" Bill examined the bottle before nodding his appreciation for the drink and uncorking it.

"Borrow-It's not a blasted broom!" Draco growled, "You can't borrow a fucking house."

"You know what I mean wanker." Bill laughed, his face already turning red with the whiskey.

"I just don't like feeling like my condition manipulates me into doing things I wouldn't have otherwise done." Draco grumbled.

This had happened before.

More than once he had donated money to a charity that the bloody witch was heralding. More than once he had bought something from a silent auction at four times its normal asking price because she was the one who set up the event. He had even attempted to free all his damn elves. The bloody creatures had fought him at every turn, so instead of being 'free', they now received pay and several days off. He had gone through all of this effort because she had been the champion for their rights. Sure, each of these deeds had made him feel good about what he had done, but a part of him wondered if he had done them because they were the right thing or if because she had wanted it.

"Fucking codswallop." Bill grunted, before downing his drink.

Draco glared at the redhead, "What was that?"

"You may not realize it, but you treat her differently because you are scared this fucking disease manipulates you. How many different Ministry departments have you allowed to use the manor?" Bill demanded.

"I'm not su-" Draco started, but was quickly cut off.

"At least four," He began counting on his fingers as he named them, "You let Kingsley hold his ball there when he was elected, you allow the Auror's to use it every Christmas for their end of year bang, you've allowed the Department of Magical Games and Sports to hold their start of season banquet there for the past two years, and you let the entire Ministry have their All Hallows Eve ball there every year."

Draco opened his mouth to protest, but Bill pointed his finger at him and kept talking, "The only reason you are second guessing your choice in allowing the use this time is because it is her. I don't think she should have to jump through hoops for you, especially when she doesn't know why you fight her at every turn." Draco began to protest again, but Bill still spoke on as if the blond wasn't attempting to cut him off, leaving Draco gaping like a fish. "It's come up you know? She has asked why you seem to be fine with all of us, but still avoid her like the plague. Have you thought to wonder why Harry asked you about the use of the Manor instead of her asking you directly?" Draco stared gobsmacked at Bill for several seconds.

"What do you mean?" He finally asked. The redhead snatched the bottle and forgetting the glass entirely, just pulled a long drink straight from the container. It was harder for those with Lycanthropy to get drunk, so it usually took a couple of bottles for Draco to feel anything. The wizard on the other side of the table had a higher tolerance, but even with that he was creeping up on having too much to drink. His face was redder than usual, a mixture of the alcohol and the yelling, and his eyes were now slightly glassy.

"She thinks you fucking hate her." Bill hissed, "She thinks she has done something wrong, because why else would you go to dinner with Harry and Ron, but only if she isn't there." Draco stared silently at the redhead as he rushed on, "If you don't want to be with her fine. But, you have got to stop treating her like a damn pariah." Draco flinched. He hadn't meant to ostracize her, he just wanted to keep his distance. In keeping his distance, he had often asked her friends if she would be at social functions and ignored them all together if she was.

In reality he had realized that people would assume that he still hated her, and he had just never bothered to correct them, because it had fit his needs. He figured that he could just maintain that he hated her, without ever correcting it, and nothing would ever come of it. They never hung out together anyway, and he had planned to keep it that way. He just never took the time to consider that she would think that he did. She was always so unassuming and factual. He had figured that she would make her own conclusions based on the facts, and since he had stopped being mean to her that she would assume he just didn't care. Now, with the reality that she actually thought that he hated her being pushed into his face, his heart dropped like a stone into his stomach.

"She-I-why does she even care?" Draco sputtered. He began to cling to the glass of Ogden's in front of him like a lifeline. His wolf growled in his mind, the feeling of failure flooding his veins as he thought about the possibility of causing his mate any discomfort. After that painful Easter, Draco had sworn never to cause her pain again. Which resulted in him going to these extreme lengths to avoid her all together.

"She cares because she is Hermione. She cares about everyone, you fucking git. She can't stand the fact that you still hate her, and she is convinced it is because of her blood status," Bill ignored Draco's sharp intake of breath and continued on, "Why can't you fucking accept-"

"Why do you care? She is marrying your brother." Bill flinched a little before averting his eyes. He took a deep breath through his nose before staring up at Draco with eyes alight in fury.

"I care because she will never be completely happy with him. He will be able to tell that he can't please her, and he will feel like a fucking failure as a husband. She will never understand why-" Draco stood up quickly from the table and slammed his hands down on the hard dark wood, the glasses rattling from the force. A few people at other tables glanced over at them, but Draco ignored their hushed whispers, his heart hammering in his chest.

"They will be fine. Your brother is too dense to notice if she is not happy. But none of that matters because she will be! She loves him, and he loves her, and Lupin said that we could live happy lives without each other. I am the only one that has to fucking deal with this loss." As if on cue, he felt the ache in his chest at the thought of her being with someone else, but he rushed on, "She doesn't even know something is missing." Chest heaving, Draco snatched his cloak from its place on the booth and threw it around his shoulders.

It didn't fucking matter.

They would be fine, and he would be alone and it would be fine.

The truth was that he realized how close he was to being in love with the stupid witch years ago. Right after the war, when they all had to sit together during banquets because of their newfound 'friendship'. Having wanted to show a complete and true turnaround of ideals from both sides, it had made sense for the Golden Trio to invite Draco to sit with them at the many celebratory functions. Draco, also wanting to show that he no longer held prejudice inside of his dark heart, accepted but sat as far away from her as he could, while still being at the same table. It didn't stop him from taking an interest in her every time she smiled or laughed.

That slight interest he had developed-and promptly tried to bury- bloomed into a full-blown crush when they would sit at the same lunch table so he wouldn't be hexed while trying to eat during their seventh year at Hogwarts. The crush continued to grow into a quiet infatuation when she helped him pick up his books after he had been tripped nearly daily in the halls going to class. The infatuation molded itself almost to unrequited love when she had taken to walking near him-not next to him because he would walk too fast for her-but near him so the others would sod off and leave him alone.

Eventually, he had distanced himself further to prevent it from becoming true love. He wasn't sure if he could continue to ignore her if that had been the case. So, now he watched her at a distance, and forced himself to be happy for her. Even if she never knew that he was.

This stupid fucking witch had wormed her way into a secret place in his heart, and he couldn't stand it. He still didn't want her because he couldn't trust what he was feeling was genuine. How much of this was based on the fact that the wolf wanted her? He didn't know and would never be able to tell. That was why he still fought this. That was why he still lied to both himself and anyone who knew that he was not in love with her. That he would never be in love with her. That and the fact that she was in love with another wizard. He would never risk her happiness for his own, because she deserved happiness and he…well he didn't.

"I felt it." Bill's whisper stopped Draco in his haste to leave. Taking Draco's pause as permission to continue, Bill spoke on, "We met each other, Fleur and I, one time during your fourth year. Right after the Triwizard Tournament." Bill's eyes shined brightly as he spoke, "She was gorgeous. She told me how my little brother saved her little sister and when she laughed it was like the sun found its brightness in her." A small smile crept over his freckled face as he spoke, the scars running down his cheek lifting with the grin.

"When she left, I felt like a piece of me had been torn from my body. Like my soul was split in two, but I didn't know where it went. I buried myself in my work, I found fault with every girl I took on a date. I tried to fight it. I didn't even know what it was. I thought I was going crazy. Until she walked into Gringotts. She smiled up at me, and my soul stitched back together." Draco had slowly sunk back into his spot in the booth, the bottle of Ogden's perched in his hand, as Bill recounted his tale. His voice low, his secrets breathed across the wooden barrier between them.

"I didn't realize what we were until I was attacked by Greyback. Until the pull came from my side too." He let out a low, dark chuckle. "I was so furious with her when I found out. She had told me it was her Veela side, and that she couldn't control it. She was too young to claim me when she first felt the pull, but I was the reason she came to Gringotts. She wanted to court me first." He pulled his shirt to the side, revealing two small pinprick scars that reflected in the low flickering flames. Marks of a Veela's fangs. "She claimed me right after the attack, I hadn't even left the hospital yet."

Draco's throat felt dry, and he pulled two large gulps in from the bottle and leaned back against the booth. There was no way Granger was feeling the pull from her side too. She would have said something. They saw each other frequently enough that she would have confronted him about it if it felt at all like Bill described. "It must have been a side-effect from the Veela pheromones. Werewolves-I am different. I don't emit those pheromones, it's just me that feels the pull." Draco knew he was reasoning with himself more than with Bill, especially when he looked up and saw pity in the deep blue eyes of his pub friend. "She will be happy with Ron." He said the words to himself, taking another swig of the bottle.

The two stayed together long into the night, and the early morning. The moon kept them both up long after they should have gone to sleep. After the short argument, they talked about safer subjects. Bill asked Draco if he would like to come to dinner in a few weeks which Draco hesitantly agreed to after much strong-arming from the redhead.

When a man came to the table posturing and stirring trouble late in the night, the wolf emerged making Draco's eyes reflect bright silver for a moment. He was able to insult Draco once about being a Death Eater before Draco stood growling low in his throat. Bill flicked his wand, stunning the man without even flinching. The man was then quickly and efficiently awoken by Penny, before being tossed unceremoniously onto the street for disturbing her customers.

This was why Draco loved drinking with Bill. The man understood. The man knew that Draco couldn't control the wolf all the time, and the Weasley accepted that. He had needed this. He needed to be reminded that he could let himself relax around someone. Not to feel like he constantly had one hand on his wand to protect himself, and the other on a leash to protect everyone else.

By the time they were done, Bill had helped Draco home through the floo, as they were both too drunk to apparate, before crashing on his floor. This wouldn't be the first time Bill had stayed in the Manor, and his mother was pretty used to the Weasley by now. Draco allowed the world to stop spinning for a brief moment before taking a deep breath and letting the alcohol drop him to blissful unconsciousness. The wolf went quiet for the first time in hours.


	8. A Stroll in the Moonlight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I do not own Harry Potter or any characters/locations related to the franchise. That all belongs to J.K. Rowling. I hope you enjoy the only thing I do own...the plot. Also M rating for language and possible sexually explicit scenes (really just wanted to be safe with the rating).

"Malfoy, get up you git!" Draco woke up to the furious shaking of his shoulder with a splitting headache, and a hatred for all thing's daylight. Weasley was holding his head and waving his wand at his torso, ironing the previous day's clothes with a simple household charm. "It's half nine in the morning. We are late." The redhead grunted before hopping around on one foot to shove his shoe on.

Draco sat in bed while his mind caught up to what Bill had just said. Once the words had crawled their way through the dense fuzz of his hangover, he shot off the bed, immediately regretting his decision as the room spun. Grabbing his shoes he ran to the closet and changed quickly. Running his fingers through his hair he decided to go for a lazy, sexy, just rolled out of bed look. He didn't have time for much else. "Thanks a lot fucker." Draco growled, Bill smirked and just handed him his wand.

"You're the one who wanted to drown his problems, not me." Bill defended, crossing his arms over his chest and raising an eyebrow.

"Well, you are the older one. You should have told me to stop drinking." Draco snarled, grabbing his satchel from where it had been abandoned the day before. He slung it over his shoulder, a sense of unease filling him as he thought he might be forgetting something. Was there a meeting today? Yes. Thinking that was probably what had his stomach tightening he went through the talking points he had to go through in order to convince the Minister of an increase in budget for the Auror Department.

"I'm not your bloody mother."

"Thank Merlin for that. I would look terrible as a redhead." Draco smirked, grabbing a handful of floo powder, and offering the bowl to his friend. Bill laughed heartily in agreement, before crossing the room, accepting the offered powder.

"Too true." The redhead continued to laugh, his booming guffaws echoing through Draco's room well after Bill was engulfed in emerald flames. Draco glanced around the room, a niggling in the back of his mind telling him he was still forgetting something. But that niggling was quickly replaced by the sharp stab of pain. Draco groaned again at the throbbing in his head before he too exited the house through the floo, calling for the Ministry as he did.

Draco had never been late before, and with the headache he was currently sporting he really just wanted to get to the Auror Department and shut his door tightly. He walked to one of the lifts and was happy to see it was blessedly empty. There was nothing Draco hated more than sharing a lift with fifteen other witches and wizards. He smirked as a couple of interdepartmental memos soared above his head, eager for the lift doors to open. Draco pushed the button, opening the grate, smiling as the paper occupants hovered above his messy hair.

That happiness was washed away with panic when he heard a flustered voice call, "Hold the door!" Draco had a moment of indecision. He could ignore the call, and then let the door close on her. Avoid her for yet another day. It would be so simple, and the simple act might make her more reluctant to speak to him, saving him the trouble of curt and tight-lipped responses. _She thinks you fucking hate her._ Bill's voice from the night before echoed in his mind, and before he could fully register what he was doing he slipped his palm between the closing grate to keep it open.

He didn't want her to think he hated her. Not really. He didn't know what he wanted her to think, but it wasn't that.

His favorite and most despised witch slid in on her heels in a flurry of bushy hair and papers, "Thanks, Malfoy." She smiled up at him, out of breath from her jog to the lift. He nodded, but kept facing the lift grate. They both stood awkwardly next to each other before she slowly reached her elbow towards the button selecting the Auror Department, still juggling the many folders in her hands. Malfoy flushed as he realized that in his moment of panic he had forgotten to push the button for his destination.

She was wearing a dark grey muggle pantsuit, the blouse underneath a lovely rich blue color. Her heels were sensible at only a couple inches, but still gave her a professional look. The aesthetic was all almost completely shattered by her hair. The brown crown of curls was as large as ever, each ringlet standing up at odd ends from the run to the lift. The more defiant strands poked out and seemed to reach into the empty air around them, as if creating their own personal bubble.

She was chewing her lip nervously, and he could tell from the corner of her eye she was trying to work up the courage to speak to him. It didn't take her long though, and before they had arrived at their destination, she cleared her throat softly to gain his attention.

"So, I wanted to thank you for letting me use the Manor. I honestly thought you were going to say no." She looked over at him, her arms wrapped tightly around a large stack of brown files.

"Of course," Draco replied, still refusing to meet her eyes. In this small space her natural scent was intoxicating. He felt his trousers get a little too tight, and tried to silently list all the Ministers of Magic in order to take his mind off of the beautiful witch standing right by him. He adjusted his stance to make it more difficult to see his _problem_ , trying hard not to make it seem like he was inching away from her.

Merlin why was she so close? She had the whole damn lift, did she really need to be so close he could touch her if he wanted? His hand twitched at the thought, making him clench his fists in order to keep them at his side. "Also, thank you for suggesting your mother. She has been brilliant and has already suggested several vendors who will work wonderfully for the gala." He nodded again. Granger had turned towards him now, trying to blow a curl out of her face as she clung to her folders to prevent them from tumbling from her hands. After several puffs of unsuccessful air, Draco sighed.

"Here." He grunted, and before he could stop himself, he had reached out and tucked the volatile curl behind her ear. He couldn't help but let his finger brush the lobe as he did. When was he going to get this chance again? He took a moment for the guilty pleasure, noticing the way her pupils began to dilate, and how her breathing caught in her throat. Her brown eyes went wide in shock before her brow furrowed in confusion.

"Malfoy-" She sounded breathless. It wouldn't take much, just a slight shift of his hand and he could pull her mouth to his. He could finally taste her. Would she taste like fresh rain? He licked his lip quickly in anticipation of the taste. She glanced down at his lips for one split second, seemingly drawn to them by the action, and Draco swore this was going to be it. He was going to ruin her life by having poor impulse control and snogging her here in a lift.

He was saved by the bell as the lift came to a stop. Steeling himself, he let his hand drop to his side feeling like a weight had settled between them. He stepped out into the Auror Department exiting the lift hastily, refusing to look back. She hesitated before following him out. She kept a respectable distance though, and he was thankful for that. They separated at the end of the short hallway, her walking through the bullpen to Potter's office and him towards his own.

The rest of Draco's day went by in a blur. It seemed like every time he got a chance to breathe there was another metaphorical fire to put out. Not to mention that if he had a moment to relax it was plagued with thoughts of how soft her riotous curls had been. Like fresh Acromatula silk sheets.

He had meetings through the first half of his day. He was able to convince Kingsley to give them an increase in the budget, which they desperately needed in order to afford proper protective gear. Why Potter insisted on him running these mandatory budgetary meetings was beyond Draco, but he did admit he was good at them.

He then had to look at a cursed object that had recently been turned in by the Burke family. The object was particularly nasty, and he made a note to contact Bill regarding it, thinking he might need the other curse breakers help. Bill had responded quickly and promised Draco to be over later that week.

It felt like the day had just begun when Draco found himself in his familiar cottage, counting down the minutes to the moonrise. When it was just a few minutes away, Draco got a sinking feeling in his stomach like he was forgetting something again. He went through his day, going back to when he had first got the _feeling_. It had been when he was ready to go to work. When he was standing in front of the floo. With a sudden bout of nausea Draco remembered what he had forgotten. Right as the moon rose and he felt the first twinge of the change. For the first time in over seven years, Draco had forgotten to take his wolfsbane.

 _ **Finally!**_ The wolf called inside, and Draco had his first taste of fear since the war.

Lupin had been wrong. It felt nothing like being under the Imperius. It felt like standing at a window and staring out as the world twisted and changed around you. The change took place at its normal speed, but the difference was that as it was finishing Draco felt his control over his limbs sink away. It felt more like he wasn't becoming the wolf, but was being devoured by the beast. When it was over, the wolf stood on strong legs and shook himself out.

 _ **Let's go find her**_ **.** It called before releasing the loudest howl Draco had ever heard. The wolf ran through the living room before taking a running leap, its powerful body crashing through the bay window his mother loved.

 _Ahhh. Why the fuck would you do that?_ Draco felt every single shard of glass cut into his skin. He felt blood begin to run down his front paws, and wanted nothing more than to stop and lick them clean. The wolf had other ideas though. It lifted its nose to the air and started sniffing. After doing several sniffs he huffed out his nose to clear it before starting again. _Good luck catching her scent._ Draco felt himself fill with a smug air as the beast released a low growl.

_**I already have it daft boy, or did you forget your little lift ride with her this morning.** _

Draco felt a swirl of anxiety invade him in his cell inside his own mind. _Wait, don't-_ The creature growled low, then took off at a speed Draco thought impossible. The beast began to wind its way into the forest surrounding the manor, barely dodging trees. Every few moments a tree branch would scratch into his face, causing the wolf to yelp before pushing itself to run faster, jumping over fallen logs and rocks as it raced through the thick foliage.

Draco didn't know that they could move so quickly. Every full moon since his turning he had held a peaceful sleep inside a comforting cottage. They had to be going as fast if not faster than his favorite racing broom, and a part of him thought it was exhilarating. He felt the pulse of the Manor wards as they crossed them, but still the wolf ran. It took them about an hour, but they found themselves outside muggle London. They could see the lights of the city ahead, and again the wolf stopped and sniffed the air. Finally, Draco could feel a warm contentment fill the wolves bones.

 _ **There she is**_ **.** The wolf took off again into a tiny muggle suburb. The neighborhood was small and quaint, with two story houses on either side of the streets. The soft glow of street lamps filled the air, along with the muffled sounds of muggle television. A desire to hunt filled them both as they paced, but the wind brought her scent to them once again, drowning out the other instinctual urge. They had to find her.

They continued to run down various streets, following the scent of lavender and fresh rain. Finally, the beast skidded to a halt, its sharp claws knocking loose some of the black asphalt. The wolf sniffed the air again, confusion filling its bones before turning around and pacing between two buildings.

Draco watched in fascination as the beast narrowed its eyes between a pair of relatively nice two story houses. They were separated by a patch of grass, roughly the size of an empty lot. It was like it was bought out for the construction of a house, but the project had yet to begin. The wolf paced angrily. Releasing several deep growls that almost echoed.

 _ **Where is she?**_ The beast snapped at Draco.

 _How am I supposed to know. She is your mate, can't you find her on your own?_ Draco replied petulantly. The wolf paced onto the grass, making several turns in the dew before growling again in frustration.

 _ **She is OUR mate you irritating flea, she is ours and she should be**_ **here** _ **!**_ The beast began sniffing close to the ground, the whole area tingled the beast's nose, causing him to jump back slightly, and blow hot air through his nostrils to cleanse it. _**This whole spot reeks of magic. It's her's. Can't you recognize it?**_

 _No. I can't_. Draco mentally rolled his eyes before settling himself in the mind of the beast. It was going to be a long night. The beast did several more laps around the small lot before aiming its large snout towards the sky and releasing a howl. The noise was saturated with several emotions, none more present than a morose mourning that echoed through the night like a reverberation of the pain the beast was feeling.

Draco could hardly imagine what it must have felt like to wait quietly for years for a chance to find her, only to have that chance ripped away by the harsh sting of magic. The beast's dejection washed over his human counterpart like the blanket of darkness over the world. The sting of failure like salt to the cuts and bruises the beast welcomed only minutes before because they were a precursor to the possibility of her presence. Draco almost felt sad for the creature who had lost something it never had. Almost.

Eventually, the melancholy creature settled down and curled its head into its tail, right in the middle of the vacant lot where her scent was strongest. Draco allowed his mind to quiet, drifting off into a restless slumber as he waited for the moon to set, and for the sun to rise, his chance to be in control once again only a few hours away.

* * *

For the second day in a row Draco was shaken awake by a familiar shock of red hair. "Dammit Malfoy, if you know what is good for you-" The sentence was not finished, because once Draco had opened his grey eyes to the even more grey sky he was hoisted up and forced to stand on his feet.

"Here." A black wizard's robe was thrust into Draco's torso. Distantly he shook the sleep and only then realized he was standing in a Muggle neighborhood, in nothing but what his mother gave him. He quickly wrapped the cloak around him before turning to Bill.

"How did you-"

"You're mother floo called me last night when you broke through the wards." Bill said as a way of explanation, before grabbing Draco by his arm and tugging him away from the lot. Draco fought the pull, refusing to move. The lingering fear of leaving the lot and losing his mate pushing through his bones as he stood on the dirt.

Bill turned back to him raising an eyebrow. When the younger wizard realized what he had done he pushed forward past Bill and towards the sidewalk. Once they were out of sight of other Muggles, Bill grabbed Draco again before Apparating them back to the small cottage.

Bill had been added to the family wards years ago. This was a precaution for the unlikely event that Bill would need to bring Draco back hurt, or otherwise incapacitated. Draco had never been more thankful for his mother's foresight than he was at this moment. He didn't really want to have to walk through the grounds of the Manor in nothing but a wizard's robe.

Shaking away the imagery he took a seat at one of his cushy chairs in front of the small fireplace. His clothes lay shredded at the foot of the couch that he normally slept on, and he shuddered at the thought of the night before. Of not being in control of his mind.

Bill stood behind him, his hands shoved in the pockets of well-worn jeans as he bounced from foot to foot. The quiet was too good to last, and before long the redhead came to stand in his view whispering, "You alright?"

"No," Draco huffed, he looked up at Bill before releasing an involuntary chill. "Where did he take me? How did you find me?"

"I got there before you did actually." Bill said, leaning up against the mantle, but keeping his eyes on the other man. "Your mum called as soon as the wards pulsed, and I knew where your wolf would take you. You went to her house." Draco looked at him sharply before realization dawned on him.

"She put it under fidelius?" When Bill nodded Draco released a low breath, "I thought only Dumbledore could do that." The awe that infected his voice was not of his own volition, and he cringed at how impressed he sounded. Bill took pity on him and just smiled.

"Dumbledore was the only one who could do it, until about six years ago." Draco watched steadily, waiting for more with baited-breath, "She was receiving death threats from those who thought the war was lost on their side due to her and Harry's meddling. She just wanted to be left alone. She placed her parents house under the charm and made Harry the secret keeper. I don't even know the 'secret'."

Draco let that sink in before asking another question that had popped up in his mind, "But her parents. They're muggles. How are they living in a-"

"You don't know?" Bill straightened quickly, the shock slowly melting his features and twisting them into disbelief. He looked at Draco with something akin to pity and anger in his blue eyes.

"Know what?"

"She had to-" He hesitated, taking a breath. "I actually think it would be better if she tells you this. It's not my place." Bill scratched his head before casting a quick tempus charm and muttering to himself. "I am needed at work in an hour, and so are you." He turned quickly on his heel, Apparating out of the small cottage before any more questions could be asked. It was a shame because Draco was littered with them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N 2: Sorry it took me so long to post. I had a hard week at work, and just had time to upload this for you guys. Tell me what you think below! Any comments left for this chapter will be responded to when I post the next one! Love you all!


	9. Deals Being Made

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I do not own Harry Potter or any characters/locations related to the franchise. That all belongs to J.K. Rowling. I hope you enjoy the only thing I do own...the plot. Also M rating for language and possible sexually explicit scenes (really just wanted to be safe with the rating).

Several hours later, Draco had his nose buried in his work. He had successfully made it to work before anyone else in his department and had avoided the questions regarding the numerous scratches on his face and arms. It turns out that injuries sustained while in wolf form could not be healed due to the curse. Which was just bloody brilliant. Draco had never had to think about this before, having never before let the wolf out to play. Now, his whole body itched as the wounds from the night scabbed over, causing discomfort every time his expression changed. Draco had read, in one of the many werewolf tomes he read over the years, that this didn't include those of the life threatening variety, but he had no desire to test it out and did not really want to compare the healing factor to that of his human form.

The sound of someone knocking on his door, caused him to release a low groan before calling for whoever stood at the door to enter. The door flung open, and a raven-haired wizard moved swiftly into Draco's office, closing the barrier softly behind him. Harry moved to one of the small chairs that allowed a place for guests to sit, and plopped down. He took one long look at Draco before releasing a heavy sigh, "Why do you do this to yourself, mate?" His soft voice echoed through the walls, concern leaking on the edges of the words. Draco took a moment to gather his thoughts.

"Do what?" He eventually asked, praying that playing ignorant would make the Gryffindor leave. Of course that was a fools hope. The other wizard leaned forward, resting his forearms on his knees. The boldness that was so characteristic of his house came forward when the wizard spoke again.

"Hermione came to my house last night." Draco raised his eyebrows before busying himself with his paperwork. "She came telling me that there was a werewolf outside her house, pacing her wards." When Draco remained silent, Harry rolled his eyes and pushed on, "Are you seriously going to try and tell me that wasn't you?"

"It was a one time slip up." Draco grunted through clenched teeth, "I forgot my morning dose. It was the first time I've ever forgotten and it _won't_ happen again." Harry eyed him before running a hand through his already messy hair.

"If it does? What are we supposed to do when she starts questioning why a werewolf keeps returning to her house?" Harry demanded, leaning back in his chair. Waving his hand at Draco he continued, "You could change all of this if you just told her."

"Told her what exactly?" Draco sneered. Unwilling to admit to what he was sure Potter already knew.

"You are torturing yourself, you fucking git. Hermione is your-"

"You don't know what you're talking about, Potter." Draco snarled. He pushed himself up and walked to the window behind his desk. Peering out at the cloudy grey sky, Draco tried to order his thoughts. Technically, Draco had never admitted to Hermione being his mate to Harry. Legally that was something that was highly guarded. Everything that Harry was going off of was stolen glances, and the epiphany that Draco hadn't had a serious relationship since Hogwarts. This wasn't the first time that the other man had brought up the possibility of it being her, and Draco had never denied it.

Draco stood straight, and took a moment to adjust his cufflinks, trying to seem more put together than he was. The moon had rattled Draco for the first time in years, and he needed to grab hold of his emotions so that he could behave normally-like a wizard who didn't have a snarling beast always in a cage. He just needed another second of silence.

Harry apparently wasn't having it.

"I know exactly what I am talking about. You could at least be around her a few days a month. It might take the edge off. It might help you when the full moon comes." Harry moved so he was standing behind Draco.

Draco took a deep breath, leaning his head against the cold glass, and watched a child walk down Diagon Alley with their mother. The young boy had one hand wrapped around the tail of an enchanted dragon toy that was trying to fight its way free, his shaggy dirty blond hair falling over round cheeks. The little boy's other hand was holding onto a lollypop of multi-colored swirls and the size of his pudgy face. That particular candy could have only come from Weasley Wizard Wheezes just down the alley, as the boy would occasionally burp a bubble the same color scheme as the lollipop. Draco watched as the mother, a pretty witch with pin straight black hair in plum robes, leaned down before stealing a quick lick of the boy's sweet. She smiled and laughed as the boy pulled it away with a scrunched up face, finally giggling as his mother too burped a bubble. Something deep inside Draco twisted and turned as he watched the scene.

"I can't be around anyone Potter. You should know that." Draco sighed, turning to face his coworker with guarded eyes.

"Oh, don't give me that self sacrificing bullshite. I've heard it from a far more experienced wolf, and trust me I didn't believe it then, and I won't now. Just tell her, and you can-"

"I could what?" Draco challenged, his voice reverberating off the walls, his emotions finally over taking him. "She is marrying Weasel. Even if I wanted to, I can't be around her…ever."

"She would help you, if you asked." Harry charged on, "You don't have to sleep together, but you could just hang out."

"Hang out?" Draco scoffed. Not wanting to admit that the reason for the pain on his face was the stabbing in his chest at the thought of being around her. At the thought of knowing that he could spend hours listening to her laugh, and seeing the sparkle that appeared only in her eyes, just to have her return home to another man. He felt his heart crack at the thought, and forced back the pressure behind his eyes that always came when he imagined her spending her life with someone else.

When he finally spoke again, his voice was cracking on the edges with emotion, "I know she would, and that is why I can't ask. I don't want her help." Draco rubbed his hand on the back of his neck, feeling his tense muscles move beneath his long fingers. Hoping that if he said the lie enough, it would finally be true.

He knew she would help in any way she could. Fuck, she was already helping when she worked in the Department of the Control of Magical Creatures. She had created new legislation that made it so no one had the right to know what Draco was. He didn't have to tell anyone and didn't have to register to the Ministry about his affliction. She was helping him without even knowing who or what he was. Of course Potter had already had access to his files before that legislation came to pass, so he had already known. The day after the legislation had passed all records of his disease were removed from the Ministry and destroyed. Draco had felt almost as free that day as he had at the end of the war.

"You're lying to yourself." Potter murmured, moving away and back towards the door. "The ingredients for your next batch will be brought up later today. If you want to, I don't know, get a pint or something before the next full moon just let me know, alright?" Draco nodded absently, now thoroughly lost in his own thoughts.

He knew he was lying to himself but couldn't bear it if he began to tell the truth. Rolling his shoulders to release some of the tension that had begun to build, he shifted to look over some of the documents on his desk. Hoping to distract himself with his work.

* * *

Draco had thought that he had met his drama quota for the day when Potter left, but apparently, he had been wrong. Oh, so wrong. He had finished packing up for the night, leaving the now barely brewing wolfsbane to simmer overnight, when there was a knock on the door.

This one was small and timid in contrast to the confidence that had preluded Potter's entrance earlier that day, and after only a couple of seconds of staring at the door like an idiot he was hit with the scent of lavender. He stood as still and steady as the desk behind him, praying to Merlin that she would go away, when her quiet voice echoed through the wood. "Malfoy, can I talk to you? I know you are in there, I saw your shadow moving." The wolf sat up at attention at the sound of his mate, before jumping up and down excitedly in his mind. Draco harshly commanded the beast to stay quiet, and surprisingly it did-the promise of it's mate enough to keep it in line.

He waited for several minutes for her to leave, but instead she knocked a little louder. Draco heard her huff through the door and could imagine her arms folded across her chest in impatience. He smiled for only a moment at the vision before cursing himself, and running his fingers with his hair, before slowly opening the door.

She stared up at him for a moment, looking just how Draco had pictured. arms crossed and brows furrowed in impatience, before releasing a sharp gasp. "Merlin, Malfoy what happened to you?" She asked, reaching her hand up to touch one of the many scratches on his face. Draco jerked his head back away from her fingers, avoiding her touch but not the flash of hurt that crossed her face.

She pulled back her hands, and after a few moments of staring into her wounded chocolate eyes he realized she was waiting for his answer, "Oh," thinking quickly he waved his hand in the air flippantly, "I fell off my broom." She scrunched her face for a second, before rolling her eyes.

"Those bloody things are deathtraps." She huffed. She stood for a second, her eyes flicking back into his office, "Are you going to…let me in," She asked pointedly. Draco jumped slightly, opening the door wider, and sweeping his hand to let her in before he could question what he was doing.

"What-Uh what can I help you with Granger?" He stuttered for a second before gathering himself. He watched her walk around his office, leaning slightly on the wall by the door. She was in a dark blue pantsuit today, her grey blouse ruffled around her neck. Her robes matched her blouse, and she had them left open to give him a good view of her body. While his heart began beating widely, she looked at his books, fingering along their spines before settling on his hidden novels. No longer only his hidden secrets, he smirked.

She smiled before gently caressing the spine of one of his favorites like a long lost friend or, he shivered slightly, a lover. "I love this one." She said casually, her fingers tracing the title, "'The mark of the immature man is that he wants to die nobly for a cause…'"

"'….While the mark of the mature man is that he wants to live humbly for one.'" Draco finished automatically. He glanced at her face, noticing that she was staring at him before she glanced back at the books, her face erupting in a very pretty pink. Draco's own neck flushed in embarrassment before he cleared his throat and asked again-quieter this time, "What did you need, Granger?" She laughed lightly then, before turning to him.

Hermione released a heavy sigh, placing the book back carefully on the shelf. She moved deeper into his office perching herself on a chair without being asked to. He moved towards his desk and propped himself up against it, folding his arms across his chest, as if that would prevent him from giving in to the impulses that were already racing through his mind.

He wrinkled his black button up in the process, fearing for a second that it would permanently crease the expensive material, but was just happy that the wolf was quiet and seeming to bask in the presence of his mate. He waited, watching her chew her lip as she worked out what she wanted to ask him. "I have a werewolf problem."

Draco hoped she couldn't hear the pounding his heart began to make as it raced in his chest. "One showed up at my home last night, and just…stayed there. All night." Draco turned away from her, crossing to the other side of his desk to avoid her eyes. Knowing she was waiting for his response he idly fingered a quill before clearing his throat.

"That still doesn't explain why you are _here_." He rolled up his sleeves, figuring he had already creased the sleeves. He hoped she didn't hear the slight tremble in his voice. His mind raced while it tried to convince him that she didn't know. That she couldn't know. But then again, Potter was her bloody best friend, and had no loyalty to Draco. He could of told her. Bloody hell she knew!

"Well, to be frank Malfoy, you're the smartest person I know." She chirped primly, crossing her long legs, and pulling Draco from his mental ramblings. Hermione placed her hands gently on the higher knee as she waited for his response patiently, her eyes never leaving his face.

Malfoy's eyes were drawn to the movement, the way her shapely calves adjusted as she put weight on one of them. The way her slender fingers caressed each other where they rested on her thighs. His gaze was caught for a moment on her fingers, his brains slowly catching up with what he was seeing. He had to lean forward, his arms supporting his weight over the desk, just to make sure what he was seeing was right. Her fingers were…naked.

"Where is your ring?" The thought made itself verbal, his eyes never leaving her fingers. He kicked himself for his lack of tact, and even more for his need to know.

"What?"

Draco flushed for a second _, in for a sickle in for a galleon_ he thought _,_ his hand fluttering in the air motioning towards her hand. "Your engagement ring. You're not wearing it."

"I-uh…well we-" She sputtered for a second, glancing away and towards the bookshelf, as if the hundreds of creme colored pages could swallow her up. Finally, she looked back up at him with flushed cheeks, meeting his steel colored eyes with her proud chocolate ones. It seemed like she came to a decision as she squared her shoulders and pursed her lips, "Ron and I have decided to break the engagement, but we have not yet made it public." Hermione's gaze never faltered as she spoke, emotion littering her voice, "I would appreciate it if you extended us the courtesy of not telling anyone."

"Of course, Granger. I don't make it a habit of spreading gossip, even if it is as salacious as a break in the perfect façade you seem to portray." Draco responded, he pushed himself off the desk and took a seat at his chair. Trying to look calmer than he felt, he took several deep breaths. The engagement to Weaselbee had been one of the main reasons he was still fighting to stay away from her. With it broken…well that left a wide space that he could fill. Draco stopped those dangerous thoughts in their tracks, continuing the conversation on less vulnerable topics, "So, you were commenting on how smart I was." Draco grabbed a quill at the change of subject and turned it in between his fingers distractedly.

"Yes, you are quite literally a genius," Her eyes rolled for a second, but her voice was genuine. Draco felt a warmth spread through his chest at her compliment, and even more so at the fact that it seemed like she actually meant every word of it.

"OK, why not ask Potter to help? He has familiarity with werewolves if I am not mistaken."

"He has, but he is also supremely protective of me." Hermione scoffed. "He wouldn't let me go anywhere near a werewolf. You on the other hand don't really care if I get infected with Lycanthropy, or if I die. Do you?" Draco fought the urge to laugh in her face. If only she knew how wrong she was. Just the thought of her being infected with the virus had his stomach clenched in knots. He forced the feeling down before giving her what he hoped was a conceited smirk.

"So you need someone who is smart, and who would not care whether you lived or died?" Draco prompted, making sure he had heard her right.

"Right. I need help figuring out who this werewolf is, and you are the smartest person I know of other than myself. They seem to be without wolfsbane and could potentially hurt someone. I would like to provide them access to the brew." She paused looking up at him, making sure he was following, he nodded for her to continue, "I also believe that you are skilled enough in your profession to brew the potion, is that correct?" Draco forced himself not to look at the potion brewing on the other side of the room, currently simmering no more than 2 meters away from her.

"Yes, I am capable of brewing wolfsbane." He was surprised at how steady his voice sounded. Then again, he had spent several years lying to some of the most powerful dark wizards and witches of the era. At least he picked up a skill from his time there.

"Well, in that case I would also request you teach me how to brew the potion. I would like to be able to provide the werewolf with doses of it once they have been discovered." She chewed her lip for a moment before releasing the abused flesh, her eyes dropping to her lap "I need to help them, it's like they came to me specifically. Like they were looking for me." Draco's heart sped up as she spoke, seemingly lost in her own thoughts for a moment. She had no idea how close to the mark she was. She shook herself of whatever thoughts were running through her head before looking back at him.

"What makes you think they were without wolfsbane?" Draco paused, his eyes on her, "Maybe they have access and were just having a night out on the town." Her head was shaking before he finished.

"I don't think that's it. They seemed…well they seemed wild. Like the wizard was not in control." She pursed her lips, her eyes tracking back to his bookshelf.

"Maybe it was a wild wolf." Draco shrugged, "People have been known to get those confused with werewolves quite often."

Hermione's head snapped back towards him and her eyes narrowed. "I have studied werewolves in depth since our third year at Hogwarts. I am quite sure I can tell the difference between a wolf and a werewolf," She brushed her hair out of her face forcefully. "It was a werewolf."

Draco sighed, "Ok, _if_ this was a werewolf, what purpose would they have to seek you out if they were not on wolfsbane." Draco tried to appeal to her logic, looking steadily at her as if he was explaining something to a small child, "Why wouldn't they be off killing wizards and witches, or muggles. Wolves don't often seek out company of others-"

She cut him off, nodding excitedly like she was waiting for him to arrive at this thought, "I have a theory, but I can't test it until the wolf comes back."

"What theory?"

She blushed for a second before looking away again, "I don't want to say in case I'm wrong." She shook her head for a second, "No matter, are you going to help me?"

"What if the wolf doesn't come back?" He asked, ignoring both her question and the pounding of his heart at the idea of her already having a theory. Her theories were rarely if ever wrong, "What if it was a one-time thing?"

Her head tilted towards him, her eyebrows raised in challenge, "How about you help me until the next full moon, it won't be that big of a change as I am already working with you and your mother for the gala. You do this and I will owe you one. I have quite a bit of pull in several departments in the Ministry, and I would be willing to extend to you _one_ I.O.U.."

Draco thought about it for several seconds, but honestly it wasn't a hard decision. All he had to do was work with her for one month, throw her off his scent, and then he would be in the clear. He knew that she was going to investigate this whether he helped her or not, so really this was just a chance to prevent her from putting the pieces together. Not to mention her presence for the next few weeks would calm down the wolf and make the next transformation easier. At least that's what he told himself.

Smirking, he stood from his desk and extended one pale hand across the surface. He waited until her soft skin made contact with his, tingles working their way from his palm to his shoulder and finally settled in his chest as the small digits closed around his larger hand, "Deal, Granger."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N2: The book quoted in the chapter above is Catcher in the Rye by J. D. Salinger. Not my work, or I would be so rich lol.
> 
> A/N3: I hope everyone liked this chapter! Any comments are much appreciated. Responses to any comments made last time are posted as promised.


	10. Tea for Three

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I do not own Harry Potter or any characters/locations related to the franchise. That all belongs to J.K. Rowling. I hope you enjoy the only thing I do own...the plot. Also M rating for language and possible sexually explicit scenes (really just wanted to be safe with the rating).

Hermione had left after their handshake. She had told him she would be by next week so they could start brewing wolfsbane. Draco had told her that it wouldn't be necessary to start so soon, but she had cut him off and told him to be ready. He had agreed with a grunt, and waved her out of his office. By the time he had made it back to the Manor, he was ready for a hot shower He was convinced the day couldn't get any longer. He was wrong…yet again.

No sooner had he crossed the main entrance hall than he heard his mothers soft commanding voice, "Draco dear, come sit with me?" It wasn't really a question. So, even though all Draco wanted to do was collapse in bed, he dropped his foot from its position on top of the first stair and took a deep breath. He walked towards the main sitting room, adjusting his cufflinks as he went until he was standing in front of his mother.

The room had pale cream walls, and a small fireplace off to one side. It was currently crackling, its flames tinted a beautiful light blue. There were various straight backed chairs positioned around a small table, his mother currently seated in one, her tea cup balanced perfectly in one hand.

He could smell the scent of jasmine wafting from the cup, his mother was having trouble sleeping yet again. Like Draco, Narcissa had been plagued by nightmares in the years after the war. They had really begun to seep into her soul after the death of her husband, it seemed that lacking the comfort of another person through the night had really been taking its toll on the older witch.

She never brought this up to Draco, but he had noticed that she was spending more and more time in this sitting room with a cup of calming tea than she used to. Especially this late at night. "Mother, what are you still doing up?" Draco whispered, concern etching itself across his pale face as he leaned down to kiss her on the cheek before lowering himself into the chair opposite of her.

Narcissa waved off his question with her hand, before flicking her wand at the tea. Narcissa Malfoy nee' Black could not be asked to pour tea like a muggle, he smirked at the thought. Her magic flowed around the room, brushing him like a cool breeze as the tea cups filled themselves, and added sugar the way he liked. "Thank you." Draco smiled, politely.

"You are welcome, dear." Narcissa eyed him until he took a sip of the tea. Once she was satisfied that he was happy with the way it was prepared she sat her cup down quietly on the table. "Are we going to discuss last night?" She raised her eyebrows, her lips a thin line.

"I'd rather not." Draco sighed heavily, knowing that he really didn't have much choice in the matter either way. When Narcissa wanted to know something, she would figure it out one way or another.

"I would, Draco dear. Proper English if you would please." She admonished, correcting his grammar while casting a spell on napkins so that one found itself in Draco's lap. "Do you think it is wise to maintain your silence on the matter?" Narcissa folded her hands into her lap and tilted her head inquisitively.

"Mother, what would you like to know?" Draco let his shoulders slump and set his now empty cup on the table. He watched the teapot excitedly fill it up while the sugar dish pranced over and put two spoonful's in. He loved when his mother animated dishes. Her personality always penetrated the china, making the dishes seem livelier than if he were to animate them himself.

"If you are alright for starters." Her blue eyes searched his face, sighing as she saw the cuts and scrapes. "Are you alright, my dragon?" Draco nodded, his throat tightening at his old childhood nickname. She hadn't called him that since she had imperio'ed him so many years ago. She had begged his forgiveness for casting an Unforgivable on him, but he had thanked her for it profusely in the quiet of their library many nights ago. Right afterward he had explained to his mother about who his mate was, and she had listened as he had ranted and raved about not wanting her. Now, in the quiet of the sitting room she seemed to want to listen again, so he began to tell her.

"No, I am not." He choked out, "She…she broke her engagement." Narcissa nodded, waiting for him to continue. "For years I have told myself that it was ok to ignore her, and to hate her because she was in love with another wizard. But now, she isn't." His fingers wrapped around his robes at his wrists, pulling the fabric until it bunched in his hands. "How dare she." He demanded, his eyes flashing. He quickly stood up and paced around the low table, the sugar scurrying back to its place on the tea tray as he passed by.

He was not sure where the anger was coming from, but now that it was here it was burning through his veins like the Curse. He felt like the fire was roaring within him would never die, and his face quickly flushed. "How dare she break the bloody engagement. I had a good thing going mum. I could just ignore her, and she could ignore me and we could be bloody happy." He winced slightly at his lie, his mother gave him a severe look.

"Is that where the wolf took you? To her?" His mother asked, her eyes narrowed slightly glancing over his face.

"Yes."

"Mmmm," His mother hummed, twisting her mouth in thought. "Smart wolf. You have not been happy in some time, Draco." She raised her hand, cutting him off as he began to speak. "I have watched you fight this connection with Miss Granger for six years. Don't you dare stand there and lie to me that you have been happy!" Draco stopped pacing and stared down at his mother, her blue eyes flashing dangerously like the flames dancing just next to them.

"I-"

"Stop." She stood quickly, flicking her wand and banishing the tea spread to the kitchen. "If you make the decision to not be with her I cannot stop you. I vowed to your father the night she was dragged in here before us, soaking tears into my floor, that I would never stand in your way when it came to her, and I have stood by that vow every day since. I will not, however, watch you lie to me like I am one of your daft friends. You are my son, and you will tell me the truth!" Draco lowered his head, properly scolded. His hands clenched down at his sides, his chest rising and falling in shallow breaths.

"I can't be with her. We don't deserve to be forced together." He whispered. Narcissa nodded once and walked over to her son, having no energy to correct his grammatical contractions. Standing on tip toes so she could reach, she wrapped her arms around his broad shoulders. "But, I think I could have loved her, Mother." Narcissa nodded again, his arms wrapped around her middle. "If things were different."

"You have a chance, Draco." Narcissa murmured in his ear. "A chance to prove to this witch that you are not who she remembers. A chance to truly be happy." He stiffened slightly under his mother's soft voice. "If you asked for my advice, I would say take that chance. Merlin knows you two both _deserve_ to be happy." After another pause she released Draco, and gave him a kiss on the cheek. "Goodnight, darling. I will see you in the morning." Draco nodded, his mind deep in thought, pondering if he should take his mother's advice.

* * *

The next few days had passed by in a blur. After many nights spent tossing and turning, unable to sleep, Draco had decided that he was not going to make a move on Hermione, and that he would just get through the month of 'helping' her figure out who the werewolf was, and then go back to ignoring her like he had been doing.

Tea Tuesday was upon him once again, and like every Tuesday before this one he opened his door just before eight and waited. Like clockwork the door to the lift dinged, and the rushing smell of autumn rain hit his nose. He breathed in deeply and waited.

Hermione walked past him, her navy blue heels clicking across the linoleum, her short legs crossing the room to stand next to Potter's office. Draco eyed her while she waited for her best friend to open the door, and noticed that instead of the usual two cups in her hand she had a cardboard drink holder with three paper cups. His eyebrows furrowed further when Harry came to the door, took one of the beverages and then smiled before turning back. Hermione then twisted on her heel and met his eyes. Draco flushed red at having been caught staring and quickly lowered his gaze as she walked back towards his office.

His mind started to run rampant. Close the door? No that would make it obvious you were closing it on her. Go to the potion? No, one look at its pale grey surface and she could tell exactly what it was, and he didn't have an answer as to why he was already brewing wolfsbane before she had asked.

He settled on standing swiftly from his desk and browsing his bookshelf as if he was looking for an important piece of research material. He waited until the clicks of her heels stopped next to his door, glancing at her figure standing on the threshold of his office out of the corner of his eye.

"Hello, Malfoy. Ready to get started?" She smiled brilliantly holding out a cup for him to take.

"Actually, I do have a job, Granger." He quipped, walking towards his desk and taking a seat. She grinned at him again before crossing towards his desk and setting the tea he hadn't taken onto the wooden surface.

"Harry told me that you could be given my 'case' as a top priority." She sat down on the same chair as she had last night and took a sip of her cuppa.

"Did he now?" She nodded, and leaned back before reaching into her bag and taking out a large, dark leather portfolio.

"I thought we would start with what we know." She began, balancing the portfolio on her knees, "They are solid black with silver eyes, and stand approximately 5.5-6.5 feet tall at the shoulder." She passed over a piece of paper to him which held a description of him in werewolf form. He read her small paragraph, complete with a short section on his behavior that night.

"How long did you watch the wolf?" Draco asked, his eyes racing along the page.

"Not long, when they entered the…well when they came close to my house I lost sight of them, and decided to go to Harry's house, in case they broke my protective enchantments." She glanced down at her page before looking back up at him.

"I think we should ask around with werewolf support groups to see if any werewolf matching this description has been seen." Draco nodded his agreement. "But, they won't meet for another week or so because the wolves need time to calm down after the full moon. So, until then I thought we could work on the potion." She stood and was about to make her way over to the cauldron bubbling in the corner of his office before Draco inserted himself between her and the wolfsbane.

"I thought we could work on the potion at-" Draco tried to think of _anywhere_ else that had a fully functioning brewing station, but he was coming up empty. The only other place he knew of that had everything they would need would be… "The Manor." He watched as realization dawned on her smiling face. The grin slipped from her cheeks and her hands wrapped around the paper cup in her hands like it was an anchor and she was adrift.

"You want to work on the potion…at your house?" She scrunched her eyebrows.

"Uh-no that's not…um I meant…" Draco again wracked his mind, trying desperately to figure out another place to work on the potion. Finally, his thoughts grabbed hold of a location, he winced slightly when his mind settled on it, but it was better than the manor…barely. "I meant we could work on the potion at Spinner's End." When Hermione's brows furrowed further Draco explained, "Snape's old house." Her mouth formed an 'o' in recognition before she nodded.

She tried to peek around his shoulder again, but he leaned over so her line of sight was blocked. She gave him a suspicious look before huffing out a breath, "Alright. I finished my work this week already since most of it is preparation for the gala. So, as long as it is alright with Harry for us to work off campus that shouldn't be a problem." She gave him a small smile, looking one more time at the cauldron in the corner, before turning around, her hair nearly smacking him in the face in the process. She left the office, presumably to clear the trip with his boss.

Draco ran a hand through his hair before muttering to himself about how stupid he was. He snatched his cloak up from his chair, and sent a memo to Theo, letting him know that he would have to cancel lunch. By the time the tiny parchment airplane was leaving his office she was back, her brown eyes watching him intently.

"What?"

She blinked several times as if clearing her thoughts, "Nothing. You ready?" He nodded, throwing his satchel over his shoulder and led her towards the lifts.

"Have a nice time, Malfoy." Potter called from his office, a massive smug grin spread across his thin face. Malfoy gave him a rude hand gesture behind Hermione's back, hearing the deep throaty chuckles of his boss as they entered the lift, and left the Ministry.

Twenty minutes later the two of them were standing on the edge of the old grey three story house, having apparated together. Draco quickly released Hermione's shoulder as if it had burned him, turning to face the ancient structure. He ignored Hermione's narrowed eyes and started to make his way towards his godfather's house. Its pale stone walkway was slightly overgrown, and there was a small herb patch off to the side that looked like even the garden sprites had abandoned.

It had been nearly seven years since Draco had stepped foot in this house other than to tell one of his house elves to maintain the structure. The elf occasionally asked Draco's opinions on what to do with the old house, but overall Draco had avoided the place. He wasn't sure why it had been so long since he had been there, but he was sure it probably had to do with the many memories that soaked into the wet, gray walls.

It was ironic that this place was one of the few areas that held no poor memories for him, aside from the night he had almost killed Dumbledore, and yet it was the only place he had avoided. Like the happy memories would cut into him even more than the ones where he had been tortured. He knew that opening the door in front of him, without Severus' sneering face on the other side, would be openly admitting the other man was gone. It was not something he had had to really come face to face with…until now.

Hermione walked over to the edge of the sectioned herbs, mumbling to herself about which plants Snape had been growing before he had died. "Mistletoe, Dittany, Chomping Cabbage." She glanced at Draco who made his way to the door. "He grew a lot of healing herbs."

She whispered as if not to break the serenity of the scene before them. Almost as if she expected their old Professor to come around the edge of the house in a flourish, sneering about how it was prudent for any _useful_ potions master to keep his herb garden well stocked with an abundance of healing herbs. Draco smirked a little, his thoughts drawn back to the first time his professor had taught a young Draco to properly gather mistletoe berries.

"He used to tell me that he loved potions because you could take something simple and meaningless, like those berries," He motioned towards the mistletoe, "and mix it with a bunch of other things simple and meaningless and make something wonderful. A mixture of things that didn't matter to create something that did." Hermione watched him while he spoke, a fond smile gracing her lips.

"You really miss him, don't you?"

Draco shrugged, feeling like he had let a little too much emotion slip out. He turned from her and forced the tightness in his eyes away. Facing the door he then waved his wand at the harsh black wood, which shuddered in recognition of his magic before opening with a loud, offensive _creak_. The noise echoed through the quiet street, causing both Draco and Hermione to flinch and check behind them.

Of course the wards protecting the property from the nosy eyes of the neighbors held strong, and the only reaction to the noise was the increase in Draco's pulse. He swallowed tightly, knowing that there would be no scent of a brewing potion to meet him once he walked in. He tightened his jaw, and slowly put one foot in front of the other. The walls were dryer than they used to be, with less mold. Surely the work of having an elf whose only job was the upkeep of this downtrodden home.

As if summoned by Draco's thoughts, a younger house elf with ears that stood up almost straight into the sky, and bright clear yellow eyes the size of tea saucers approached from the kitchen. "Master Malfoy, Twiden was not expecting you. I will make tea right away." The elf wiped his hands nervously on his crisp black pillow-case, its long nose jiggling slightly with every motion.

"I am sorry that I did not send a message ahead of myself, Twiden. It was an unexpected visit to me as well." Draco motioned behind him to Hermione who was watching the exchange with interest. "Can you make enough tea for both me and Miss Granger." The elf's eyes flashed nervously towards Hermione. Just as recognition dawned on the poor creatures' features, Draco's eyes widened in panic, "No, no no no…" Draco sputtered, but the elf had already started to tear up.

"I tries to be a good elf." The pitiful thing wailed, "I tries. I cleans and I dusts…please don't let her take me, don't let her _free_ me." The elf cried out, grabbing its ears and twisting them. "Please Master Malfoy-"

"Twiden, stop." Draco shouted at the elf, letting the magic of the command rake into the little creature's frame. Immediately the creature dropped his hands to its sides, but still shifted its feet nervously, "No one is going to free you or take you away." He pinched the bridge of his nose with his forefinger and his thumb before motioning to Hermione. "Are you, Granger?"

"No," Hermione began, speaking quickly, dropping to her knees in front of the creature. "If you are happy and well treated with Master Malfoy, then I have no reason to take you. Besides I don't work for that department anymore." She soothed the elf in low tones until the poor thing was hiccupping instead of bawling. "That's it, chin up." She rubbed it's shoulders until the creature was once again standing steadily in front of them, no tears in sight.

"Tea?" The elf asked, its voice cracking a little on the edge.

"Tea would be lovely," Hermione smiled, standing again by Draco. Draco's fingers released his face with a drawn out sigh, and motioned for her to follow him down the hall. They went up a crooked staircase that creaked at every turn, until they came to an old room that had once served as Severus' potions lab. Taking a deep breath, and preparing himself for the rush of memories, Draco opened the thick wooden door and stepped inside.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N 2: Thank you so much for reading, feel free to leave comments below. I appreciate all the kind words and encouragement I have received from this community :)


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